Reminiscence
by anonymous moose
Summary: "Primarch Vakarian? Uh, sir? I'm here to ask you about Commander Shepard." Shepard/Vakarian.
1. A Nervous Prologue

Slowly, the skycar descended into the clearing. The garage was to my right, gunmetal grey and large enough to fit four VTOL capable craft, but right now, only one occupied a space. I angled into a free slot and disengaged the ignition, trying desperately not to panic.

"It's okay," I told myself. "It's not like you haven't done this before. T'soni was intimidating too, and it turned out she was very approachable."

My whitening knuckles stared back at me from the controls.

"Calm. Down." I took a deep breath, held it, released. Then I got out of the car.

The garage was nice. Old, and clearly underused, but nice. Clean floors, plenty of room to disembark, retractable shutters to protect from the elements. It took a pretty penny to have this constructed way out here. But of course it would have been done. It's not every day that one of the saviors of the galaxy decides to settle down on your planet. That's kind of a big deal.

I went down the stairs from the second level to the first, then walked out one of the open bay doors.

It was a beautiful place he'd picked - green, tropical flora all around the clearing, swaying palm trees, some birds trilling in the distance. The island hadn't looked big from the air, but on the ground, it seemed like it stretched out for a few square miles all around me. The path leading from the clearing to his home was still well kept, if not well worn. It would only be a couple minutes walk, and I'd be face to face with one of the Normandy crew. One of Shepard's people. One of the most respected sentients alive.

_No pressure. Inhale, exhale. Come on, Alisa, get it together. One foot in front of the other._

I walked down the path, taking my sweet time, telling myself I was enjoying the scenery and not so nervous I might explode. When I came around a bend and saw the small, well-kept home (post-modernist architectural style, large ground floor, smaller second floor, all right angles and clean lines, white with tan trim) I was suddenly struck by the simple knowledge that for all their fame and glory, these were still just people. Just like anyone else, they had simple needs. He could have been living in a palace anywhere in the galaxy, and he was here, on a tiny island with a single skycar and a little house on the beach.

_Just like normal people._ I took another deep breath, feeling the beginnings of confidence for the first time since I began my descent.

And then the gunshot made me dive for cover. It echoed across the island as I tried to swallow my heart back down into my chest. Then there was another. And another. A slow, steady rhythm of high-caliber weapons fire.

After it became apparent that whoever had a gun was not shooting at me, I climbed to my feet, dusted off my clothes as best I could (_should have worn something nicer_), and went to investigate. The gunfire was coming from the other side of the house, I just needed to skirt around the edge, get to the beach and-

Oh.

He was standing on the sand, a big rifle of some kind in his hands, kicking some small square machine in a practiced way. It fired... _something_ out over the sea, and with only a moment to catch it before it hit the water, _boom._ Direct hit, followed by flanging laughter.

I just watched him for a minute. He was taunting the machine, or at least I think he was - he was certainly talking to _someone_ whenever he hit his target. He was tall, but not as tall as the vids made him look. He was wearing what looked like long bermuda shorts and nothing else, revealing his armored cowl and shifting plates along his arms and torso, and his three-fingered hands ran up and down the rifle to reload it's heat sink with an almost comical ease. His face was rough and craggy, even for a turian's, not that I had seen many. But something about it was unique, beyond the blue facepaint and fading scars that had become so famous. Maybe it was the eyes.

Despite the almost comical wardrobe, seeing him in person was like what you imagined seeing a demigod was like. You felt smaller just by his being there.

Slowly, I padded down the beach towards him. I started to make out words and phrases.

"Thirty eight! Ha! Even _you_ would be impressed. Don't lie, we both know it's true." Kick, aim, fire, hit. "Thirty nine! A few more and I break my old record! How's it looking from up there, hm? Suitably impressive I hope?"

_He hasn't noticed me._ He brought his left foot up and down onto the lever of the machine.

"Excuse me, sir!"

Launch, aim, fire-

A miss. It hit the water with a distant _sploosh_, barely audible over the lightly crashing waves.

He lowered his gun and leaned back, running a hand over his face and cursing tightly into it. He turned back towards the house, lightly kicking over the target launcher in frustration. What looked like empty wine bottles tumbled out of it's hopper.

"You have _terrible_ timing, woman," he grumbled, pacing away towards a beach chair I only just noticed. "You couldn't have waited for another minute or so?"

"I'm very sorry, Primarch, sir," I said, rushing over my words, "but I really needed to talk to you and I did sit there for a while just watching but that felt really creepy and I didn't want you to freak out when you saw me out of the corner of your eye or something-"

"I saw you half an hour ago," he droned, "when you came in for your landing."

Oh. "Oh."

"One of the many benefits of living on your own tiny island," he said, taking a seat in his chair, bony spurs sticking up and out from his calves and hips, "is that you see any visitor coming from miles away."

_God, Alisa, you _dumbass.

He just sat there, staring at me. For a moment I'm almost overcome with the urge to laugh - one of the galaxy's most famous heroes is a sixty-some year old turian in bermuda shorts sitting in an adirondack chair with a rifle cradled in his arms - but I quickly quash that urge before I make a _complete_ ass of myself. I briefly consider making something up, but I look at those eyes and think better of it, so I come clean.

"Primarch Vakarian... uh, sir. I'm here to ask you about Commander Shepard."


	2. An Introduction is Necessary

He kept staring at me. Slowly, he started to... smile, I think? Something in his expression changed.

"Oh you are, are you?" He asked. "Well then, can I ask who sent you here?"

"Well, uh," I stumbled, "no one really sent me, per se, I don't work for anyone-"

"It was Liara, wasn't it."

I blinked. "Oh. Oh! Yes, I did go to Ms. T'soni first but she said I should talk to you." He slowly began to nod. "She said you should be the first person I spoke with. You see, I'm writing a book, about Shepard I mean, and-"

He laughed quietly, looking away from me. "Well well. Going to have send her something _awful_ for this one."

"S-sir, I don't really follow-"

"Of course you don't," he leaned back in his chair, sticking his legs out. "Private joke. Why don't you just go home."

It wasn't a suggestion. He was dismissing me. I stood stock still for a handful of seconds, just wringing my hands. This had gone exactly as I'd feared, but I hadn't died of embarrassment yet, so might as well plow through.

"No."

He looked at me again. I clenched my jaw involuntarily. "Go home," he said. I shook my head. He just sighed. "You got played, kid. Accept it."

"I don't know what you mean, sir." I said, forcing the words out.

"If I tell you what I mean, will you leave?" I didn't move. He pulled himself out of his chair and wandered back over to the target shooter.

"Here's how it works," he explained, pulling it upright and replacing the bottles in the hopper. "People all over the galaxy want a piece of Shepard's crew, have since the war ended. They want to know the behind-the-scenes, the insider stories, the dirty little secrets." One of the bottles still had some purplish liquid inside. He leaned back and tossed it to me, I promptly fumbled it into the sand, and he shook his head while I picked it up. "Liara is the easiest one to track down and get a hold of, so when one of the fans or reporters or other undesirables shows up at her door, she likes to send them _my_ way. They come all the way out here, I tell them to get lost, then I send her a piece of awful elcor or hanar pop-art, which she decorates her office with." He shrugged lightly. "It's our way."

He stood back up and gave me a look. "So really, if there's anyone you should be mad at for wasting your time, it's her. So," he waved his hands off towards the garage, "go be mad at her. Go on."

I looked down at the bottle in my hands, taking in what he said. Something didn't make sense to me. Well, most of it didn't, but something in particular...

"She didn't have any art in her office," I said, furrowing my brow. When I looked back up at him, his face plate things were twitching. Mandibles? Or is that only bugs that have those?

"That blue azured _bitch_," he spat. I jumped a little when he cursed. He set his hands on his hip spurs and shook his head. "She redecorates before I visit!" For a second, I thought I heard him laugh.

He stood there for another moment, then started pacing back up towards the house. "That tears it. No more kid gloves. She's getting something _big_ for this. Let's see her try to hide a six foot tall half-ton elcor sculpture when I'm not around."

"Sir?" I asked, trying to keep up with his long strides. "Can't I just have a little of your time? I came all this way and-"

He spun around and I suddenly realized exactly how tall he was. "You're not the first one to come around looking for stories, kid, and you won't be the last. But if you think you're getting one word out of me or _anyone_ who served on her ship, you've got another thing coming."

"But I don't-"

"I don't care _what_ your reasons are," he said, his hand slicing towards the ground, "the subject is closed, and it always will be."

"But Primarch-"

"Ah ah!" He raised one of his three fingered hands at me, then wagged one of them. "The Hierarchy is a meritocracy. The only Primarch is the current Primarch. We don't let our titles linger like you humans do." He shooed me away with the same hand. "There, you learned something. Now go away."

He turned and started walking. I had to think of something, I couldn't let this go, I _couldn't-_

"My mother knew Shepard!"

He stopped, looked up at the sky briefly, half turned back. Maybe that had done it.

"You think I haven't heard that one before?"

I gaped. "It's true!"

"Kid, if I had a credit for every time one of you people tried to pull that on me, I wouldn't _need_ the royalties from the vids." His expression seemed to shift again, and I couldn't tell if it was disgust or pity or something else. "Hackett's niece, Anderson's godchild, Emily Wong's only stepdaughter, even Shepard's illicit in-vitro test tube baby. They all came to me, and they all left empty handed. Just like you."

He shook his head, not really looking at me anymore. "I'm so tired of dealing with you people."

He turned away again, walking back up the side of the house, and I knew if I didn't say anything, this would be it.

"Parasini," I said. He stopped again, but didn't turn. "Alisa Parasini. Gianna Parasini was my mother."


	3. A Decision is Made

He slowly turned towards me for a third time and gave me an odd, lingering look.

"That is a new one." He said slowly. He grunted curiously and walked back up the side of the house. I followed close behind.

"Sir, you can see my ID, you can look me up on the extranet! I went to school in Spain, I graduated near the top of my class in human lit, I did post-grad work on Thessia and Dekuuna! I had the worst yearbook picture in my class! Please!"

By the time I had finished, we were back at the front of the house. He pointed down the path. "Go home."

"No!" I shouted. I realized I just shouted at a turian Primarch. My eyes widened and his face plates twitched.

"Even _if_ you are who you say you are," he said doubtfully, "what difference does it make?"

I struggled to maintain my composure as his blue eyes drilled into me. "My mother respected Shepard. Liked her, even. They were friends-"

"And?" He said, raising his voice. He was trying to break me, get me to run away. And I wanted to. But I couldn't. Not for this.

"I wouldn't disrespect her or my mother," I said, screwing up my face into something approaching stern. "Not for anything."

He laughed derisively. "Right. That's why you're putting together some piece of tell-all garbage on 'the _real_ Commander Shepard.'"

I sputtered. "That's not-"

"Didn't she do _enough_ for you people?" He was practically shouting now. "Do you need to drag her name through the mud-"

"The galaxy doesn't know a _thing_ about her!" I was shouting now too. When did we start shouting? "Don't they deserve to-"

"_Deserve?"_ He stalked towards me and I backed away, startled. "Let me tell you what the galaxy _deserves_, Ms. Parasini!"

I managed to hold my ground and he got within inches of me. His voice was flanging, breaking, cracking, and I couldn't tell if it was because he was upset or if it was some turian intimidation thing. "They deserve _far less_ than her! They always did! She gave _everything_ for you, and you still want more! Well _she isn't here_, and as far _I'm_ concerned, you can take what you deserve and _leave."_

He turned away and stalked back towards his house. I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, until he was almost at his door. Then I ran to catch him.

"Mr. Vakarian, wait! Mr. Vakarian!" The door slammed shut in my face. I knocked hard. "Please, sir! I'm sorry!"

The door suddenly opened. For one brief instant I thought he might apologize.

Instead, he reached out and grabbed the bottle I still held in my hands, then slammed the door shut again.

I stood out there for minutes that felt like hours. I had failed. I had set a task for myself, a goal, a _mission_, and I had failed before I'd even started. As it sunk in, I slumped against the outer wall of Primarch Vakarian's cozy beach house. I felt awful. I should have just given up and gone home, like he'd said. I should have gone back to Thessia, started looking for work as a copy editor somewhere. I couldn't be an unemployed post-grad forever.

But something in me couldn't leave. Not like this.

"Mr. Vakarian," I shouted into the door. "I don't know if you can hear me, but..." I sighed. "You were right. I did have an ulterior motive for coming here, for doing any of this."

"My mother is dead. She's been dead since I was five years old. Her work kept her travelling, so I never really knew her even when she was alive, but... it still hurt to think about her."

I plopped down onto the ground beside the door. I didn't even know if he was listening, but I had to tell him. I had to tell _someone._

"When I got older, I wondered about my mother. I wondered what kind of person she was. I looked through everything my family still had to get a picture of her - a big picture, as a person, I mean. And then on one of her old omni tools I found some correspondance... I almost couldn't believe it when I found the letters. I mean, my mom _knew Shepard_. She knew the person who saved the _galaxy._ There weren't a lot of them, they didn't really keep in touch, but they were friendly and casual, and it was _weird_ seeing these little trivial things associated with... well, with a legend."

I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them. It wasn't cold, but I felt cold. "I'm twenty three, sir. I was born after the war ended. I saw the footage and went to the V-Day parades, I know what the history books say. But I wasn't there. I didn't see it. I'm part of the first generation that never knew a time before Shepard, and I realized that I knew almost nothing about her. I saw the pictures and the vids - I know what she looked like. I heard the speeches in class, same as everyone else, and when I started to look into it I could see the results of some of her missions, the ones that were declassified anyway. But when I saw those letters to my mother... I kind of realized for the first time that she was a _human being_, you know? That she wasn't just a name and a face and an ideal."

"Maybe you're right, maybe the galaxy doesn't deserve to know, but I'm not trying to disrespect her, sir. I'm just..." _I'm just trying not to cry, is what I'm doing._ "I guess I'm just trying to know her, so in some... weird way, I know my mother a little better."

I rubbed my eyes and sniffed a little. Putting it out there, verbalizing it, made it seem stupid. What was I doing with my life? I shouldn't be here. These people saved the galaxy, and here I am, stupid little Parasini, bothering them for reasons they couldn't possibly care about.

I got up and tried to apologize, but it came out in a choked mumble. I had to leave. These people deserved some peace.

I was almost out of eyeshot of the house when I heard the door open. "Parasini!"

I looked back. He was framed in the doorway, all angular and jagged and alien, except for those shorts. He stared at me, hesitated, then jerked his head and turned back around.

He left the door open.


	4. The Prelude

The house was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked. A small open foyer leading into a large living room, big plate glass doors that opened onto a small deck with a few more adirondack chairs, kitchen off to one side with a small island, all very open and inviting. The door on my left was partially open, and as I glanced in (no intruding, not polite) I thought I saw what looked like a study or office of some kind. I imagined there were stairs there as well, leading to the upper level. Probably a bedroom.

But all of that was just a building. What was inside made it a home. Everywhere I looked I thought I saw something significant - on a dining table near the kitchen sat numerous rifle pieces, on a nearby shelf there sat real hardback books, in the foyer on an end table sat an ornamental pot with sculpted metal flowers, above it a framed ad for Blasto 2: The Jellyfish Stings alongside one for an old human vid I didn't recognize.

One wall drew my attention immediately. On it were dozens of images of various sizes, some of the Primarch alone, some of the Normandy crew, some of them together. Some seemed formal, some not. And in the center of this arrangement, a decorative metal plaque upon which sat an old, beat up rifle. The Primarch - Mr. Vakarian - stood underneath it now, mixing a drink at a small but well stocked bar.

Eventually, he finished and wandered over to the dining table. He shoved aside most of the rifle parts and set the drink down. He gestured at it. "Sit."

I did. He wandered back towards the half-open door, went inside, and closed it. I was alone.

I wondered what exactly he was going to tell me, or if he was going to tell me anything. Maybe he just felt sorry for me. Maybe he was just letting me have a drink before sending me on my way. I ran through every doubt and every scenario that ended in my walking down the path to my car and I nearly drove myself crazy.

_God damn it Alisa, calm down. You've already made a perfect fool of yourself._

A couple deep breaths and I was still nervous, but I could at least take a sip of my drink. I coughed and sputtered, of course - it was like drinking an electric current. I wondered if he'd done that on purpose, or if that was just what he thought all humans liked. Or maybe he was testing me. _Or you're just paranoid._

Setting the drink and that notion aside, I looked over at the kitchen. Small but efficient. Dishes sat in the sink unwashed, but otherwise it was too clean to be well-used. I wondered how many nights he just chewed on uncooked dextro nutri-bars.

Eventually, my eyes were drawn back to the wall. And in the time it took him to return, I noticed two things: there weren't many images of turians apart from him. And there wasn't a single picture of Shepard anywhere.

Before I could think too hard about why that was, he barged through the door. He had changed into something a bit more turian, as far as I could gather - sleeveless vest covering his chest and collar, pants that properly covered the spurs on his calves, both a deep blue with shades of black and gray. He somehow looked more alien wearing clothes tailored to his species.

He walked right up to me and thrust his hand out. "Omni tool."

I blinked. "Uh. What am I supposed to record with?"

He held up his other hand. It was holding something I hadn't noticed. He lightly tossed them on the table - a pad of paper, and a pen.

"You can't be serious."

He still had his hand out.

_Hell, Alisa, what are you complaining about? Weren't you just worried he _wouldn't_ give you this chance?_

I nodded, pulled up my sleeve, and removed the bracelet containing the minifacturing fabricator, placing it in his hand. He quickly equipped it, turned it on, and went about shutting down any sensor packages, comms, and extranet connections.

"If I didn't know any better, sir," I said, straining a smile, "I'd say you didn't trust me."

"I don't," he said, his voice clipped. "But don't take it personally. I'm not taking any chances that whatever is said here piped to some server somewhere, or broadcast live for the extranet."

After all he'd said, I couldn't really blame him. Once he was satisfied, he took off the bracelet and threw it over on the kitchen island. He moved to sit down, hesitated, then went and picked up the bracelet and took it into his study. He emerged in short order, with a brief shrug.

"No chances," I said with a nervous laugh.

He just pulled out another chair, one with his back to the deck, and sat, leaning his elbows on the bare wood. He fiddled with his talons, I fiddled with my hair. All this time spent getting him to sit down and talk and now I wasn't even sure what questions I should ask. This had been all about the journey so far. I was like the dog who finally caught the car, I didn't know what to _do_ with myself.

He looked up and stared at me. Rather, stared at my head. "Your hair."

I quickly stopped playing with the lock in my fingers.

"I mean, your mother's hair. It's... it was like yours. Shorter, though." He looked away, back towards the kitchen.

Believe it or not, that actually helped. It was good to know that I wasn't the only awkward person in the room. And better to know that he remembered my mother.

"Thanks," I said. He shrugged again.

"So..." He coughed and cleared his throat. "Maybe I should start-"

"Oh!" I quickly picked up the pen and paper and drew a squiggly line to make sure it had ink, then I sat poised over the first line. "Okay, ready."

He gave me another odd look that I couldn't begin to decipher. "I was going to say 'maybe I should start at the beginning,' but perhaps I should tell you something else first." He reached over and plucked the pen out of my hand. "Off the record."

I shifted in my chair, trying to more comfortable as he spoke. "I told you before that everyone who came here asking about Shepard went away empty handed. That wasn't true." His mouth parts twitched. "There was one person who I spoke with."

_Garrus ran his hands over the datapads, selecting one from the group and rushing through the various menus looking for the information he needed. He really needed to start marking them so he could tell them all apart - this was the third time he'd gone through this particular datapad, and every time that happened he felt compelled to look through the entire thing just in case he missed something. He never did._

_He sighed and lifted his head to look out the window over his desk. It was a nice day. He could be doing this on the deck. Hell, he could be doing this on the beach. But here he was, inside with no distractions, going over mission reports and population growth charts and galactic star maps. Old habits died hard, even for a Primarch on leave._

_Primarch. It still didn't feel right. Probably never would. Not ten years out from V-Day and he had been named Primarch. Victus had been the first to congratulate him. He had always felt a bit out of his depth, and now as a general in peacetime, even moreso. But Garrus? Garrus was a rebel, had been even as a child. He was the worst turian he knew, but no one else seemed to care. He had helped save the galaxy. He was part of the Normandy. He had known Shepard. Of course they would look to him for leadership._

_And despite all his better judgment, he had accepted. Because he knew that it's what she would she would want him to do. Oh, she'd listen and acknowledge all his concerns, and say that it was his choice and he should do what he felt was best and leave it at that, but when he pressed her for a real opinion (and of course he would), she'd just smile that smile that made his pulse race a little bit faster and say to grab the spiky beast by the fringe and see where it takes you._

_And he would ask with a smile if she was speaking from experience._

_And she would smirk and reply, look where it got me._

_All of a sudden Garrus really needed a drink._

_He wandered out to the bar when he heard a knock at the door. Grateful for any conceivable distraction, he'd opened it without asking who it was. When he saw, it took a moment for recognition to creep in, and then he'd just stared, mandibles flaring._

_"Dr. Verner."_

_"Hello, sir," he said, holding a hat in his hands and looking pathetic._

His mandibles twitched and he crossed his arms, staring up at the ceiling. "I'd never really met the man, outside of an... incident in a bar on Illium, but Shepard had a few run ins with him. As irritating as she found their interactions, his heart was always in the right place. Hell, she'd told me he tried to take a bullet for her once. I remember thinking, if that wasn't enough to earn my gratitude, what was?"

He flashed some of his pointed teeth. A smile? A grin? A smirk? I don't know. "He said he came on business, talked about establishing another war orphanage on Palaven, asking about construction of any new mass relays and where he could be helpful, but really all he wanted was to talk about Shepard some." He chuckled dryly. "Considering where my mind was at the time, part of me wanted to throw him out. Another part of me wanted to get blackout drunk and spend all night telling war stories. In the end, I compromised - an hour or two of conversation, a couple anecdotes, and the admission that yes, Shepard _had_ thought he was all right in the end."

_Garrus walked him to the door. He still couldn't really believe Verner had shown up here, but he had been as courteous as he could. To his credit, Verner actually excused himself, saying that his wife was waiting and he needed to get back to the hotel. He'd asked about her, and Conrad had said that Jenna was six months pregnant and would it be weird if they named the baby Shepard?_

_Garrus started to shake his head, but after a moment's consideration, he said, "I suppose it's going to be a very popular name for a couple generations."_

_"Really?" He seemed to consider this. "Maybe the middle name. Don't want her to not feel special."_

_"Conrad..." Garrus didn't really know what to say. "You know this was a one time thing, right?"_

_He nodded. "Oh, sure. I was just glad you didn't slam the door. Her friends and family aren't exactly kind to fans who come looking for stories."_

_"Well," Garrus said, crossing his arms, "you did... are _still_ doing a lot of good in her name. I don't think... well. She probably wouldn't have thrown you out, if she were here."_

_Conrad smiled and Garrus thought he saw the beginnings of tears. "You really think so? Gosh... that means a lot."_

_He stuck out a hand and Garrus shook it. He put on his hat, said goodbye, and turned down the path. Garrus leaned against the doorway, watching him leave._

_"Conrad!" He turned. Garrus just raised his arm and waved. Conrad smiled and did the same, then kept walking._

_He stood in the doorway long after he had lost sight of him in the trees, thinking about Shepard. It didn't hurt quite as much as it did before._


	5. The Beginning

He lightly tapped the pen against the table, staring off into space. His mandibles moved left and right, just a little. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. _Really should have done some research on turians before you came here, Alisa._

He held out the pen and when I reached for it he pulled it away. "One last thing before we start," he said. "I speak, you write. That's the beginning and end of this. You can ask questions, but if I don't answer them, you don't write. No implication, no insinuation, no editorializing."

He flexed his mandibles and I briefly saw pointed rows of teeth. "Are we clear?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Crystal, sir."

He locked eyes with me for a beat, then held out the pen again. I took it, shifting in my seat and pulling the chair closer to the table. I set down my wrist and looked at him. He just crossed his arms and stared at the table in front of him.

"I suppose I'll start with when we met."

_"I know Saren's hiding something, give me more time! Stall them!"_

_"Stall the Council? Don't be ridiculous. Your investigation is over, Garrus."_

_Pallin turned to walk away and Garrus ground his teeth. Every instinct he had told him Saren was a traitor. Worked himself ragged, ran on almost no sleep, and for what? To get shut down by his boss because he hadn't found anything concrete in a matter of days._

_Sometimes he hated C-Sec. Hated the bureaucracy, hated the deadlines, hated the limitations. Hated his boss, hated the corrupt officers who gave it a bad name. Hated wasting his time on something that was never going to stick anyway._

To hell with it,_ he thought. _He might not care, but I do. There's one lead I've got left.

_He turned back towards the elevator and found a group of humans heading his way. Was that - yeah, had to be._

"First thing I thought when I saw her," he said, his voice humming quietly, "was how small she looked. Not in terms of height, I only had a few inches on her, but in terms of everything else. She looked... thin. Waifish, even, in comparison to a turian. I wondered how someone who looked so frail could be an effective commander."

He flared his mandibles - that _must_ be a grin. "Got my answer later that day."

_He had to time this right. Any slip up, any mistake, and his last lead - and a good doctor - ended up dead on the floor. He checked and rechecked the sight on the gun, silently regretting that C-Sec doesn't get access to military hardware, and shifted behind his cover. If he had some kind of distraction -_

_She burst through the door, flanked by two other humans. The leader of Fist's thugs grabbed Michel, wrapping one arm around her neck, gun and eyes pointed in the wrong direction. Shepard drew her weapon, calm as can be having just walked into a hostage situation. She didn't even blink._

_"Let her go," she ordered, as her team began to flank around her, crouched, moving to the cover in front. Well trained, quick on their feet. An excellent distraction._

_He slid out, stood, aimed, and fired in one smooth motion. The leader fell, Michel dove for cover, and Shepard and her team dropped the other two with a quick and brutal burst of fire. Textbook._

_After the brief, one-sided firefight was over, Garrus went to help up Michel, and Shepard followed._

_"Good timing, Shepard. Gave me the chance I needed."_

_She gave him an odd, appraising look and for a moment he thought she might give him hell for putting the hostage at risk, but instead she took a pointed look at the body of their leader._

_"Took him down clean," she said with a sort of sideways nod. "Good shot."_

_He shot her a turian grin. "Sometimes you get lucky."_

"And that," he said, pointing a finger to the ceiling, "is when I decided that this was a CO I could enjoy serving under."

I polished off my first page and lifted it, moving onto the next one. I hadn't wrote this much since my omni tool bugged out during a lecture on Shakespeare on Dekuuna, and then not _nearly_ as fast.

"She just recruited you, on the spot?"

"More like I begged to come with." He chuckled, and it made a pleasant rumbling noise in his chest. "She amassed quite a collection of unlikely allies that day. Wasn't long before we ran into Wrex, he had business with Fist as well."

"The Krogan Chief?"

"He was just another bounty hunter then, as resigned to his fate as every other krogan." Something shifted on his face and his tone grew wistful. "He and I didn't really get along, for a good while. I had no experience with krogan, thought they were all brutish idiots without a care for themselves or others. And him? He looked at me like _I_ was the one who personally sterilized him."

"But you became friends?" I smiled. "How did that work out?"

"We'll get to that, you're getting ahead of me." He took a deep breath and stretched his arms above his head. "Where was I?"

"Fist."

"Oh, yes."

_Fist cowered on the ground, Shepard standing over him with a gun to his head. Had to admit, it had been easier getting in that he'd thought it would be, but Shepard knew what she was doing when it came to a good old fashioned firefight, and Wrex had practically taken on half the gang himself._

_He was spilling his guts about where the quarian was, the one who had the dirt on Saren. Said he'd set her up, Saren's men were on their way. Shepard stuck the gun against his temple and he told them where the ambush was going down. She lowered the gun, took a couple steps back, and before she could say another word, Wrex blew Fist's head off._

_Instinctively, I raised my gun. Shepard didn't bother, just gave him a look that demanded an explanation._

_"Shadow Broker paid me to kill him," he said with a shrug. "I don't leave jobs half-done."_

He laughed, long and hard, and I stopped writing and looked up. He pinched the middle of his face with his talons until he calmed down.

"Shepard gives him this look she must have learned from her drill sergeant," he said, stifling another laugh, "and gets within _inches_ of him, looks him dead in the eyes - and remember that Wrex is still holding his shotgun - and she _dresses him down_! Says that _she's_ in command here, so next time he'll _wait for the order_ before firing his fucking weapon! Then she just stalks off, shouting something about how there's not much time and we have to find that quarian, and Wrex turns and gives me this look, like he can't believe what just happened."

He grins at me again, the widest I've seen. "Wrex executes a criminal in cold blood right in front of her, and she gets pissed that he did it without asking." He pointed another finger at the ceiling. "And that is when _Wrex_ decided that she was someone worth following."


	6. The Crew is Assembled

"The quarian you were looking for, was that...?"

"Yeah," he said, standing up to go refresh his drink. "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, later vas Normandy, currently..." He glanced up at the ceiling, then shrugged his wide shoulders. "Can't remember what she's going by these days. Have to ask next time we talk."

"You and her talk often?"

He froze. I heard glass clink against glass, then he turned his pointy head and shot me a look. I raised my hands, pen down and palms out. "What? What did I say?"

The look lingered a little too long, then he snorted and turned his attentions back to the bar. I was a more than a bit perplexed. Things seemed to be going well, I thought I was starting to establish a rhythm with him, and then he just clams up. Clearly I wasn't out of the woods yet - I still needed to figure out what was too personal and what wasn't. _What was so bad about that question anyway?_

I couldn't help but notice that this was the first time he had shut me down about a subject other than Shepard. I stared at his back, watching him mix his dextro-friendly drink, and wondered.

_No insinuation, huh. Okay, Primarch, but if _that_ counts as insinuation, this isn't going to be easy for either of us._

He finally trundled back from the bar, took his seat, leaned back, and placed his feet on the table. He sipped his drink, quietly smacked his non-existant lips, and then set it down before lacing his fingers together against his stomach.

He was punishing me. Maybe I deserved it, maybe I didn't. It hardly mattered - I needed him far more than he needed me, so I just waited as patiently as I could, pen in hand and paper ready, until he'd decided that I'd waited long enough.

A couple minutes passed before he continued.

_Garrus took point alongside Shepard, Wrex bringing up the rear, as they charged their way through yet another dark back alley on the Citadel. The kind that existed all over the wards, where the tourists never venture and the residents double lock their doors. Winding their way through the maze of side streets far off the public thoroughfare had proven difficult to do without attracting local attention, but most of them saw the krogan and started heading in the other way. With any luck, they might actually get to the quarian before the trap was sprung._

_Shepard was moving, had been moving since the encounter with Fist, with a kind of vicious purpose. Garrus hadn't said anything - it wasn't the time for conversation - but it seemed to him that perhaps Shepard was getting very tired of being given the run-around - by the Council, by Fist, by the galaxy at large. Now there was just one last loose end to gather, and she would be able to get down to the business of finding Saren._

_A voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She raised a hand, signalled. While Garrus moved across to a nearby cargo crate that had been repurposed as a dumpster, Wrex followed up close on her six._

_"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?" Accented voice, modulated. Had to be quarian. Garrus chanced a look._

_A turian with white clan markings against his dark skin ran a hand down her helmet, then her arm. A real charmer. "They'll be here," he said. "Where's the evidence?"_

_She slapped his hand away. "No way. Deal's off."_

_Garrus looked to Shepard, saw her signal 'break cover in five,' looked back. Saw the moment where the quarian knew it was a trap - the turian wasn't subtle in his signal, and two armored salarians stepped out from the shadows. The quarian ripped something off her belt, threw it behind her and ran._

_Two seconds later, all hell broke loose._

"Tali was always smart," he said, nodding to himself. He laughed a little, looking at me over his drink which I just noticed he had added a tiny umbrella to. "Make sure you write that down. That I always thought she was smart."

I did. I also bit my tongue, which I felt was sensible.

"After every one of Fist's thugs was dead, which was as one-sided a fight as it always was, we introduced ourselves and dragged Tali back to the human embassy. It was the safest place we could think of on short notice." He shrugged, shoulders rolling against his collar. "Udina took some time to be indignant about our methods, Tali gave us the intel we needed to implicate Saren, and she and Shepard went off to talk to the Council with Anderson and the ambassador."

"And you and Wrex?" I asked, pen skittering over the page.

"I went straight to the C-Sec checkpoint before the Normandy's docking bay. I planned to catch her when she left. I wasn't about to be left behind." He took a swig of his drink. "Of course Wrex ended up in the same spot. Neither of us said anything, but we both had our reasons for wanting a piece of Saren's hide. And we both knew that Shepard would be the one to lead us to him."

_"Shepard." He nodded as she and the quarian - Tali, he remembered - walked up to the elevator. He'd been pacing a hole in the floor around it for the last half hour. "How'd it go with the Council?"_

_She sighed. "Good news and bad news, Vakarian."_

_"Bad news first." Garrus had always been a realist._

_"They didn't believe one word about the Reapers."_

_He shrugged. "Saw that coming. I won't question what you saw in that beacon, Shepard, but if they wouldn't accept circumstantial evidence, they sure as hell wouldn't accept a vision. What's the good news?"_

_"Got the go-ahead to start tracking Saren. Officially sanctioned investigation." She gave him a knowing smirk. "I'm guessing you want in."_

_He set his jaw. "Commander, if you'd have me, there's nothing I'd rather do."_

_"And C-Sec?"_

"_Fighting a rogue Spectre with countless lives at stake and no regulations to get in the way?" He grinned, mandibles flaring. "I'd say that beats C-Sec."_

_She grinned back, then stared over his shoulder. "Hang on," she said, sliding past him. Garrus watched her walk up to Wrex, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. They talked, quietly. Wrex shook his head. Shepard nodded. She stuck out a hand, he stared at it a moment, looked back up at Shepard, then finally uncrossed his arms to shake it. She turned and marched back to the elevator, clapping Garrus on the shoulder as she passed._

_"Come on, Vakarian, let's go find us a Spectre."_

_As they crowded into the elevator, he realized they made quite a motley crew - a human, a turian, a quarian, and a krogan. He doubted you could find a more disparate group of sentients anywhere in the galaxy, and yet here they were, united in purpose and working together._

_Shepard seemed to notice as well - as the elevator rose to the docking bays, she glanced around at the lot of them and then slowly shook her head._

_"Joker's gonna love this."_


	7. What Makes a Normandy

"I remember stepping aboard that ship for the first time," he said, scratching his faded scars, "and wondering how I got there. What strange set of circumstances had landed me on board a state-of-the-art Systems Alliance warship?"

He hummed and his voice seemed to modulate up and down. A thoughtful noise, maybe? "But it wasn't Alliance anymore. Not really. She'd always answer to Anderson and Hackett, but to everyone on board, it was _Shepard's_ ship, and they were Shepard's people. Always would be."

I finished another page and paused, sitting up and arching my back. It actually _hurt._ I had been hunched over the damn table too long, I needed to stand and stretch my legs. I tried to make conversation while I did; the more he talked, the more comfortable he seemed to get. I was afraid prolonged silence would have the opposite effect.

"You know there's a new one," I said, voice straining as I raised my arms above my head.

"Yes, yes." His voice took on a dismissive air, subtonals grumbling. "The SR-3, isn't it?"

"It's the largest frigate ever built." I rolled my shoulders around in their sockets.

"As though _that's_ important," he scoffed.

"They say it has an _optical _stealth system, too." I paced around the table, kicked at the floor, loosening my joints.

"I'm sure with all those windows and observatories that come standard on warships, they find that _very_ useful."

"Come on, sir," I chided gently, bending down to touch my toes. "They had to retire the SR-2 someday."

He looked at me and shook his head. "They can call it whatever they want, that ship is no Normandy."

"Because she's not there?"

He chewed on that thought for a moment while I flexed my arms across my chest. "It wasn't just her _presence_. It was how she commanded. It was how she treated her crew." He huffed. "Whenever you pick up that damn pen again, I'll give you an example."

I rolled my head around as I sat back down, enjoying the simple pleasure of microscopic muscle tearing. "Sorry. Just needed a second."

He sighed. "It's fine," he said gently, his eyes avoiding mine. "Don't know why I'm rushing you."

I picked up the pen and settled in. "Go ahead, sir."

He met my eyes again and I put on my most reassuring smile. I didn't know if it helped, but he seemed to relax just a little. At least the tension was gone from his voice, from what I could tell.

"She gave a speech over the comm when she took command of the ship, just before we undocked. Something inspiring, reassuring the crew that she wouldn't let them down, that our mission was of galactic importance, that she knew they would succeed."

He crossed his arms across his barrel chest and looked down at what I had written. I looked up at him and he just shook his head.

"I don't remember a word of it. What I _do_ remember," he said, leaning towards me and tapping his pointed finger against the table, "is that after we left the Citadel, when we were well underway, she went deck by deck, room by room, and spoke with each and every crewman aboard that ship."

I did my best not to lean away from him. "Everyone?"

"It wasn't a big ship," he said, leaning back and letting me relax again. "And she didn't give everyone equal time. But yes." He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "Everyone."

_"Vakarian."_

_"Commander," he said, turning towards her. "Hell of a ship you've got here."_

_"Turian design, human engineering." She crossed her arms, her tone lightly conversational. "Best of both worlds, or so they tell me. The hell are you doing down here? I thought you'd be settling into quarters."_

_"Just taking a look around, Commander." He shifted his weight, glanced around. "It's been a while since I've been aboard a military ship. I was curious to see what kind of hardware we have access to."_

_"That why you're pacing around the cargo bay like a chained varren?" She asked._

_"Oh I'm done pacing," he replied with a grin. "I've found exactly where I want to be."_

_"Which is?"_

_He reached over and patted the six-wheeled tank behind him. Shepard couldn't help but chuckle. "Taken a liking to the Mako, huh?"_

_Garrus half-turned, regarding the reinforced plated armor with affection. "Back during my time of service I used to spend a lot of time tinkering in the shuttle bays and armories of the ships I was aboard. It helped me focus, kept me from getting stir-crazy on the longer assignments. Got pretty good at optimizing drive cores and realigning ironsights." He turned back to face her. "Of course, none of them had anything quite like this, but with your permission Commander, I'd like to use a few off-duty hours to see if I can make a few... improvements."_

_He hadn't really expect her to say yes right away, but Shepard just nodded. "Long as you can guarantee it'll run when we need it to."_

_He grinned. "Of course, Commander. You won't regret it." He began to turn around, eager to begin as soon as he could, then froze. He hadn't been dismissed. "I'm sorry, you must have come down here for a reason, did you need me for something?"_

_"No," she said simply. "Just checking in, getting to know the crew."_

_"Figured you'd want to keep your distance. Or is that just a turian thing?"_

_"That's a popular philosophy of human command as well." She shrugged. "Not how I was raised."_

_"Ah," he said, forming an understanding. "Father?"_

_"Mother, actually."_

_"Mm. Somehow I'm not surprised."_

_A small smirk. "People rarely are."_

_They heard the elevator open and both turned to look. Wrex stalked out, taking his own lay of the land, followed closely by Lt. Williams, who gave the krogan a wide berth as she made her way to the lockers._

_"I should go." She turned back to him and nodded, turning away. "Vakarian."_

_He saluted. "Commander."_

_She froze, startled a little laugh out of herself as she put a hand up, palm out. "Hey, none of that."_

_He blinked. He had been dismissed by a superior, it was a reflex. "Uh. Sorry, is that not protocol?"_

_Shepard gave him a bemused look. "Just told you, not the way I was raised. When there's mutual respect, there's no need for formality." She broke into a crooked smile. "Is that understood, soldier?"_

_Garrus took the hint. "Yes ma'am," he shot back with another salute. She did the same, then turned and walked off towards the lieutenant, who was busy deconstructing a rifle on a nearby workbench._

_Garrus stared after her, processing what she said. Then he turned back to the tank, silently promising that he would make himself worthy of her respect._


	8. Friction

"The times aboard that ship were some of the best in my life," he said, voice thrumming pleasantly. "After C-Sec, it was refreshing to not feel like I was being held back. I felt like I was finally doing something worthwhile, something that had meaning. Most of the crew felt the same way. Our duties were simple, our mission was clear, and the stakes were always understood. We worked and fought and sweat and bled together."

His mandibles shifted up and down. I hadn't seen that before, and I wondered what that meant.

"It wasn't always easy. There were moments of..." He leaned his elbow on the dark wood and rested his chin in his hand. "...friction."

_Garrus knew she was staring at him. Any time his back was turned he could feel her gaze boring into the back of his skull. When he turned, she turned away. When he went to get something from his locker, she deliberately avoided him._

_The gunnery chief hadn't said one word to him since he set foot on the ship, and he wasn't about to press her. She stayed out of his way, and he stayed out of hers. As long as she wasn't actively hostile, he didn't much care. He had gotten less respect from humans as a C-Sec officer._

_Yet it bothered him. Maybe it was Shepard - her attitude had disarmed him, left him expecting courtesy and respect throughout the ship. He had to remember that he was a stranger and an alien to these people, and turians and humans in particular had a troubled history._

_And yet... he couldn't help but feel that this mission would be a long one, and if he didn't deal with this sooner or later, tensions could boil over at a very inopportune moment._

_He wandered over to the spot Wrex had claimed - the weapons cache in the corner. Out of earshot of the lieutenant, the quartermaster, and the handful of other crewmen in the cargo bay._

_"Don't suppose the gunnery chief's been giving you the evil eye too," he said, trying to keep his tone conversational while he rooted around in the cache for a sniper rifle._

_Wrex gave him a look that said 'why are you talking to me' before he replied. "Don't know, don't care."_

_He pulled out a Mantis and popped it open, weighing the stock against his arm and checking the sight. "Wrex, if I can tell she's staring at me, I _know_ you can."_

_Wrex glared at him, then turned his head, angling his vision to take in the chief. She quickly glanced away and went back to patching her armor._

_"She's given me a few ugly looks," he grumbled, "but she's been giving you a lot more." He turned his head and grinned. "Don't think she likes you, Vakarian."_

_Garrus collapsed the rifle and shouldered it. "We don't even know each other."_

_"Don't have to. Probably sees what I see."_

_He narrowed his eyes. "What?"_

_Wrex took a step forward, his massive bulk filling Garrus' vision. "A turian."_

_He shouldered past him and headed for the elevator. Garrus sighed and headed back towards the Mako, feeling eyes on him the whole way. Maybe recalibrating a few sniper scopes would help him relax._

"That was Ashley Williams, right?"

He nodded. "Couldn't blame her for how she felt about other species, turians in particular."

"She had her reasons?" I prompted.

"Not great ones," he said as he traced a finger along the edge of one of his face plates, stroking his chin. All of a sudden, he reminded me of my dad. "But I understood them."

"Did you talk to Shepard about her?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot. "Of course not. It wasn't necessary, she was never anything but professional." The old turian leaned back and laced his fingers together in his lap. "Shepard did end up talking with her quite a bit, just like the rest of her ground squad. And there were a couple of instances where she... attempted to improve relations between the crew."

_The damn firing mechanism was acting up again. Garrus pulled himself down out of the turret and stalked out of the Mako. He needed to get it fixed before they made planetfall or they'd be limited to the secondary gun. Last time that happened, Shepard made _constant_ note of it during the mission, and for some time afterward. He'd only just begun to live it down, if it happened again he'd _never_ hear the end of it._

_He chanced a glance over at Williams. Shepard was with her, arms crossed and leaning against the workbench alongside her. They were talking._

_One on one, Garrus found it hard to notice or remember all the differences between humans beyond gender, but whenever he saw two of them standing next to each other he was struck by how they varied. Shepard's hair was a different color and shorter, but worn loose, kept behind her ears and out of her eyes. Williams' was darker, and longer, but tied tightly behind her head in some fashion. Human hair was always so alien to him. He never understood how they dealt with it._

_But it didn't end there - Shepard's skin was lighter than Williams', a fact he'd never noticed before, and her manner was more casual. She seemed perfectly at ease, almost laconic, one leg up, foot pressed against the bench behind her. Williams carried herself a bit more stiffly, a bit straighter, but when she laughed, she seemed to ease up._

_Garrus realized he was staring, had been for about twenty seconds, and quickly moved to the console alongside the Mako. C-Sec had changed him, that much was certain - it had made him more observant, but it also far too willing to _examine_, as though each person around him was a potential suspect. He had to get out of the habit while he was aboardship._

_He fiddled with the console (the damned firing mechanism wouldn't even respond remotely) and then turned to pull a spanner out of the toolchest when he saw Shepard and Williams walking towards him._

_"Garrus," Shepard said, a smile evident in her voice but not her face, "Chief Williams has something she wants to ask you."_

_"Oh." He twisted the spanner in his hands, kept his subtonals polite. "Alright. What can I do for you, Chief?"_

_She looked profoundly uncomfortable, hands behind her back and eyes everywhere but on him for once. "Commander-"_

_"Chief," Shepard said firmly._

_Williams sighed and grumbled something under her breath, then looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Tattoos or paint?"_

_He blinked. "I don't follow."_

_She waved a hand around her face. "The markings. Are they tattoos or paint?"_

_His brow plates rose. "Depends," he said, gesturing vaguely with the spanner. "Most prefer tattoos, less maintenance. Others prefer paint."_

_"And yours?" Shepard prompted when Williams didn't ask immediately._

_"Tattoos." He scratched at them idly. "Got them when I was a kid, just before I entered service."_

_Williams grinned nervously. "Did something like that myself. Less formal, though."_

_"Hm. Not that formal." He lowered his mandibles a bit, letting teeth show - a small smile. "Had to have a few drinks before I got mine."_

_She actually laughed a little. "Yeah, me too."_

_"And, uh, yours?" Now it was her turn to blink. He raised his hand and pointed at his eyes. "Your markings. Paint or tattoo?"_

_"Oh! Uh, paint." Her cheeks flushed a little, human blush response, meant nerves or embarrassment. It was gone in a moment, he almost didn't see it._

_He scratched at the beginnings of his fringe. "Sorry, did I violate some cultural thing, or-"_

_"No no," she chuckled awkwardly. "Just... didn't expect the question."_

_Once it became clear neither of them was going to say anything more, Shepard put on a wide smile and turned to Ashley. "Well there you are, Chief. Was that so hard?"_

_Ashley cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. "No ma'am." When Shepard continued to stare at her, she hesitated, then stuck out her hand. "Thanks, Vakarian."_

_He was a bit shocked, but reached out and briefly clasped it with his own, three fingers wrapped around her hand, five around his. "No problem, Chief."_

_Williams glanced back at Shepard, who nodded, and she immediately turned away and walked back to her workbench. She turned to Garrus and gave him an apologetic shrug. "Sorry to bother you."_

_"No problem," he said, "but... what was that all about, Commander?"_

_She shrugged. "She was curious, asked me. I didn't know, I told her to ask you. So she did."_

_"Really." He said doubtfully._

_"Well." She allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "I might have prodded her a little."_

_"I would never have guessed," he deadpanned._

_She shot him a mock-angry look, then turned to leave. "Get back to work, Vakarian."_

_"Yes ma'am," he replied. He was about to climb back inside the Mako when he glanced over at Williams, going through her usual routine of shipboard gun maintenance._

_"Chief!" He called. She turned, startled. "You wanna give me a hand?"_


	9. Bonding

"Of course Williams wasn't the only one who could be difficult." He grinned again. I was glad that I was getting to recognize his facial expressions. "Wrex did his best to make _everyone_ uncomfortable."

I moved onto a new page, and took a moment to shake out my wrist. I was probably going to have carpal tunnel before this was over. But it would be worth it. Hell, it was _already_ worth it. I was talking to Primarch Vakarian. _Garrus Vakarian_, Shepard's right hand, the most celebrated soldier in turian history. He was talking about Urdnot Wrex, the krogan High Chieftain, arguably the most powerful sentient alive today. They had served with Commander Shepard, _the_ Shepard, the woman who had saved every sapient life in the galaxy from extinction. And here I was, little old Alisa Parasini, hearing all about it.

I couldn't help myself - I started grinning like an idiot. The Primarch gave me an odd look.

"Sorry," I said, rolling the pen between my hands. "Moment of clarity. You're talking about _Urdnot Wrex_."

His expression shifted into one I didn't recognize, but his tone was bemused. "What, are you his biggest fan or something?"

"No, I - it's just -" Suddenly starstruck, I was losing my ability to articulate myself, so I started to gesticulate with my hands. "You're the turian Primarch-"

"Was," he corrected.

"-and he's the krogan High Chieftain-"

"Some would argue that's Urdnot Bakara," he said wryly.

"-and way back when, through sheer chance, you both ended up on the Normandy! With _Shepard! _It's just amazing!"

I was practically _bouncing_ in my seat by this point. He just tilted his head and stared at me. Slowly, the burst of starstruck excitement wore off and the nerves and self-loathing returned. _Way to act like a grown up, Alisa._

"Sorry," I apologized again, feeling my face turn a powerful shade of red. "I just, uh... um... sorry."

His face shifted into what I thought might be amusement, but he didn't laugh at me. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't go to Wrex first," he said, leaning one arm on the table. "He _loves_ talking about himself."

"Sir, I can barely talk to you," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I'd run away before he even walked into the _room_."

I fiddled with the pen in my hands and fought with a part of me that wanted to excuse myself and just walk away right then and there. I let my eyes wander and found no relief; the weight of history was everywhere in that house. It pressed in from all sides and made it hard to breath or think. I stared down at the paper and took comfort in it's mundanity, but that barely helped - a living legend was still staring at me. In that moment the only thing I wanted was for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

All of a sudden I felt a three fingered hand on the back of my shoulder. I jumped and he removed it, briefly, before gently replacing it. The look in his eyes was something I hadn't yet seen, and I had no reference for his expression.

"You're doing fine, kid," he said, voice flanging reassuringly. "Calm down."

I felt prickling behind my eyes and my heart thundering in my chest and realized I must have made a perfect spectacle of myself. I wrapped my arms around my chest and took a couple deep breaths. _Oh god, what the hell are you doing, get it under control Alisa._

He glanced at my drink, untouched and long forgotten. He stood and picked up the glass, walking over to the sink, dumping out whatever he had given me, and filling it with cold water. When he came back and handed it to me I took it in both hands and drank deeply. It had been hours and I hadn't had a thing to eat or drink.

"Sorry," he said, taking his seat and pulling it a bit closer to mine before he sat down again. "Bad joke, giving you ryncol."

"That was _ryncol?"_ I sputtered. He smiled apologetically. "No wonder it tasted like an electrical fire."

"Shepard always said it tasted like charged eezo, or diluted thresher maw acid," he said, swinging an arm over the back of the chair and crossing his legs. "Mind you, I wouldn't know. I never had the stomach for it. Or, you know, the biology. Although there was this one time, after I first joined C-Sec-"

He froze. "Well, uh," he mumbled as he sat up straight, planted both feet on the floor and put his hands together on the table. "That's... beyond the purview of this interview."

I laughed a little, glass of water still clutched in both hands. I leaned my elbows on the table next to him and brushed my hair back behind my ears. We just sat there for a minute. He glanced at me a couple times to make sure I wasn't about to have another nervous breakdown, and I did my best to relax and recover what was left of dignity. It was odd, but I felt like that was the one part of the whole day I'd remember for the rest of my life - just sitting next to Garrus Vakarian, drinking a glass of water, listening to the noise of the sea just outside the door.

He didn't rush me, didn't pressure me, but I got the distinct feeling he wanted to continue. So I downed the last of my water and picked up my pen again. He gave me the same look he did earlier, what I now imagined might be worry or concern, and I nodded. His expression changed again, back to normal I thought, and he shifted back in his seat.

"Where were we?" He asked.

"Wrex," I replied.

"Ah, yes." He laced his fingers together. "Making everyone uncomfortable."

_Garrus wandered into the mess with a couple of prepackaged dextro rations and a glass of water. After Shepard found him sleeping in the Mako one morning and given him some hell for it, he figured he should probably come up for air, so he'd decided to take some time to socialize with the crew during meals._

_Unfortunately, it was almost deserted. Save for the krogan sitting in the chair nearest the center of the table, eating very slowly._

_Garrus had heard some of the crewmen down in engineering talking about Wrex. Mostly about how he made them nervous, and how he glared when anyone got too close. The crew gave him a wide berth, and apparently that same wide berth extended to just beyond the edge of the mess hall table. No one had the courage to sit near him, and since Wrex was taking his sweet time, everyone else had to wait to eat, or just chew on energy bars._

_He wondered if Wrex cared. Or, more likely, if he enjoyed the thought of them going hungry because they didn't even have the courage to sit near him._

_Regardless, Garrus was hungry, and he wouldn't be intimidated by the simple presence of a krogan. But he still took a seat on the opposite side of the table, a couple chairs down, just to be safe. Wrex stared at him for a bit, Garrus stared back, and then they both turned back to their food._

_He didn't hear her approach, but all of a sudden Shepard was there, pulling out a chair and setting down a tray directly across from Wrex and a couple seats down from Garrus. Wrex looked up, but didn't glare._

_"Shepard."_

_"Wrex."_

_He took a bite of his food, a tuberous thing that might have been meat, which he held in his hand and dipped into a viscous brown sauce. He was leaning against the table, elbows up, perfectly at ease. Shepard, too, looked perfectly calm, but then, she almost always did._

_Wrex nodded at her plate. "What is that?"_

_She was trying to carefully tear open a small heated packet. "Pasta."_

_Wrex stared at it for a moment. "Is it alive?"_

_Shepard stopped and gave him a look, like she wasn't sure if he was screwing with her or not. "Would that make you more or less interested?"_

_He just stared at her. Shepard reached down and picked up one of the yellow strings. "Here."_

_Wrex reached over and took the thin string, then placed it in his mouth, sucking it in. He chewed thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Tasteless."_

_"It _is_ military," Shepard noted as she succeeded in opening the packet, pouring a steaming hot red sauce over the 'pasta.'_

_Wrex sniffed. "Blood?"_

_Shepard chuckled. "Tomato sauce," she said as she twirled the strings up in her fork, grimacing slightly before adding, "allegedly." __Wrex hummed conversationally as he took another bite of whatever he was eating._

_"What have you got?" She asked, taking a bite of her food. Her eyebrows shot up as she quickly swallowed._

_"Klixen meat," he said, holding up the chunk, then, "Varren blood," pointing at the brown sauce._

_Shepard was more concerned with sucking down water - the sauce had been steaming hot. When she finished, she asked, "Any good?"_

_Wrex dipped the meat into the blood, then held it out. Shepard considered it briefly, and Garrus heard her mumble "hell, why not" before she took it and tore a chunk out of it._

_Or attempted to. It was extremely tough. Eventually, after considerable effort, she managed to tear a piece off. She handed it back to Wrex and wiped her mouth with a napkin as she continued to chew, slowly. Finally, after what must have been thirty solid seconds, she swallowed and smacked her lips._

_"Awful," she said, shaking her head. "Like old shoe leather and burnt sausage."_

_Wrex started to laugh. "At least you can taste it."_

_Shepard grimaced and took another drink of water. Garrus watched this entire exchange without saying a word, partially because the turian military didn't have the C.O. taking meals with the crew and he didn't know how to react. But as he noticed Lt. Alenko come around the corner with a tray full of food, he realized what she had done._

_Slowly, but steadily, more of the crew began to take seats in the mess. By the time Garrus had finished eating, it was a proper mess hall - crewmen talking, joking, and laughing, Shepard among them. Joker was regaling a group at the other end of the table with a story of his exploits back at flight school, Kaidan was talking to Shepard about some old war story, and Wrex was enjoying watching another crewman try to eat klixen meat - he wasn't handling it as well as Shepard had._

_Tali had taken a seat across from Garrus and he realized she was talking to him._

_"Huh? Sorry, I... what did you say?"_

_"I said I'm glad there's another dextro aboard," she repeated, pointing at her tray. "I might be reduced to eating nutrient paste, otherwise."_

_"Right." He picked up and chewed on the last of his Palaven breadfood, or what passed for it. "Well, at least you don't have to sterilize sealed rations."_

_She laughed mirthlessly. "That's what _you_ think."_


	10. Joyride

"I feel like I'm getting sidetracked," he said, stretching his arms and placing his hands behind his head and underneath his fringe. "We should probably have picked up Liara by now."

"How _did_ Ms. T'Soni end up on the ship?" I asked. "The public record isn't exactly clear."

"I should expect not," he snorted.

"I don't understand."

"You will," he said, grinning wickedly. "It's up to me to set the record straight, after all." He dented his fingers and tapped them against each other in a sinister fashion.

"Liara was out on some remote planetoid digging up prothean ruins. Lots of volcanic activity, lots of lava, you know. A real vacation world. So the decision was made that Shepard, Wrex, and I should take the Mako down. It was our first real ground op together."

_"You sure about those improvements you made, Vakarian?"_

_Garrus adjusted the sight on his rifle, rechecked that the cooling system was functioning, then slapped it onto his back. "I haven't done anything too drastic yet, Commander. Just realigned the targeting systems and tweaked the suspension."_

_"So, didn't adjust the handling or the thrusters or anything."_

_"Well, the suspension should give a little more, but no, it'll handle roughly the same."_

_"Okay. Good." She nodded, staring into the rear hatch of the tank. "Good."_

_He gave her a sidelong look. In profile, she was as calm and commanding as ever, but if he didn't know any better, he might have thought she was nervous. "Anything wrong, Commander?"_

_"No no," she replied a bit too quickly. "It's fine."_

_Shepard just stood there for a moment, immobile. Garrus glanced over at Wrex, who shrugged. Eventually she climbed in, a bit warily, and made her way to the front of the vehicle, levering herself into the driver's seat._

_"Commander," Garrus reached up and leaned on the frame of the hatch as he ducked his head in, "you _do_ know how to drive this thing, don't you?"_

_Shepard didn't look up from the controls - she was already beginning preparations for the airdrop. "Can't be that hard," she deadpanned. "I'm sure I'll figure it out."_

_Garrus stared at the back of her head. He began to laugh, voice flanging nervously. "That's, ah... that's a good one Commander."_

_She didn't laugh, and she didn't look back. "...Commander?"_

_"Just get in the damn tank, Vakarian."_

_Garrus didn't move. Wrex slowly sidled past him._

_"All of a sudden," Wrex commented, levering himself into a rear passenger seat, "I'm glad I skipped breakfast."_

He laughed, making a pleasantly thrumming noise. "Everyone on board just assumed she'd be the one driving. Never stopped to ask if she had actually driven any armored vehicles since basic."

"So," I ventured cautiously, "I'm guessing she figured it out?"

He turned his head and I _knew_ that was a smirk on his face. "I don't think I'd go that far."

_Garrus was profusely thanking every spirit that had ever inspired safety restraints, and simultaneously cursing the ones who inspired the Mako's design team._

_The thing handled like a boat, skidded on every surface regardless of traction thanks to it's imbalanced mass effect fields, blew out most of it's thruster power to make the airdrop, and to top it all off, it's main gun couldn't point down. The sheer number of design issues fundamental in it's construction boggled his mind. That he hadn't noticed them before they hit active combat was an even greater source of consternation._

_He was attempting to repair a coolant leak remotely via omnitool while Wrex manned the gun and Shepard attempted to pilot them safely to the dig site. He glanced over. Her jaw was clenched, her brow furrowed, steely determination ever present as she maneuvered the tank into position for Wrex to make his shot. Geth resistance had been higher than expected - after a minute or so of Shepard relearning which controls did what and how to move forward and back, they had been ambushed by flying sentry turrets and two armatures. Things had only gotten worse from there._

_They'd nearly driven into the lava numerous times, Wrex could barely hit anything trying to compensate for Shepard's erratic driving and the visual distortion from the tremendous heat, and Garrus had been on repair duty ever since they took a direct hit from the second armature, but they were making progress. It was only a couple more clicks to the dig site and then they could get out of this six-wheeled deathtrap. How had he ever liked this thing? He couldn't remember._

_Shepard gunned it, pushing eighty KPH as she made a mad dash between two groups of sentries, crushing a handful of geth mobile platforms as she did so. Wrex laid down suppressing fire with the secondary gun, having given up on precision with the main gun, and was having some success at shooting the sentries out of the air when a third armature made it's appearance directly ahead of them, across a small river of molten rock._

_"Armature."_

_"I see it." She had to raise her voice to be heard, but she didn't sound alarmed or afraid. The tank started to go faster._

_"Armature!" Faster._

_"I SEE IT." Faster._

_Garrus braced himself._

_The armature fired a shot, the tank turned slightly and it glanced off the starboard armor plating. Before it could fire again, Shepard ignited the weakened thrusters, jumped the river, and crashed headlong into it. The impact rattled Garrus' teeth in his skull and nearly threw Wrex out of the gunner's seat. The spider-like armature twitched and writhed beneath them in a heap of twisted limbs._

_Shepard reignited the thrusters, propelled the tank upwards, and came crashing down on it again. And again._

_Once all movement had ceased, Garrus slumped in his chair. Shepard closed her eyes, took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Then she turned to him, face as calm as it ever was, save for a light dancing in her eyes._

_"That was fun."_

_Garrus heard Wrex start laughing behind him. Slowly, he and Shepard joined in._

He sighed, staring up the ceiling. "She really did love that stupid tank."

I waited a moment, but he was lost in a reverie. I cleared my throat. "Ms. T'Soni?"

He blinked, looked back at me, shook his head. "Yes yes, right, of course." He took a breath, opened his mouth, then just huffed and gave me a shrug. "Well, might as well skip to the good part."

_"You did _what?"

_"I meant to trigger a barrier curtain, not a containment field! I didn't know that I wouldn't be able to deactivate it!" The asari protested._

_"Typical," Wrex grumbled._

_"How can we get you out?" Garrus asked while Shepard dug the palm of her hand into her forehead._

_"I don't know," she replied, voice distorted by multiple layers of force fields. "There's no other tunnels that lead back here! You'll have to find a way past the barrier curtain, and then disable this field. And hurry - they've got a krogan with them!"_

_Garrus started to twist his head around, looking for something, anything that might help. They didn't have much time, the geth could be on them again at any moment. He felt Shepard lightly punch him in the shoulder. When he turned, found her pointing at something. "I've got an idea."_

"So... she trapped herself?"

He nodded.

"And she couldn't get out? For days?"

He nodded again. "The great Liara T'Soni, prodigous biotic and brilliant archaeologist, hit the wrong button and locked herself in a closet." He grinned, big and wide, mandibles flaring outward. "Make sure you get all that down."

I did.

_The asari plopped down on the floor after Shepard, through with fiddling with the console to find the right combination, simply shot it to pieces. The barrier curtain fell as well._

_"Dr. Liara T'Soni, I presume," Shepard said, offering a hand up._

_"Thank you," she said, taking it and standing. "How did you find a way past the barrier?"_

_"Giant mining laser."_

_"Oh." Liara blinked and dusted herself off. "I... suppose that would do it."_

_"We need to move, Commander," Garrus said, keying his visor with a finger. "I've got faint heat signatures coming this way."_

_"What's the quickest way out of here?" Shepard asked, drawing her rifle with practiced ease._

_"An elevator, through here," Liara said, leading the way. "At least, I think it's an elevator."_

_"Wonderful." Wrex loaded up his shotgun with a concussive round. "Some prothean expert you found, Shepard."_

_As they reached the elevator, there came a thunderous rumbling from deeper in the ruins._

_"Oh no." Liara ran over to the console, fingers flying over holographic interface. "That mining laser must have destabilized the entire ruin. We need to get out of here."_

_Shepard brought two fingers up to her ear and triggered the subcutaneous comm relay embedded just beneath the skin. "Joker, lock on my signal and get the Normandy down here, double time!"_

_"Aye aye, Commander," came the reply piping through their comms. "ETA, eight minutes!"_

_"Not a lot of margin for error," Garrus noted._

_"No it's not," Shepard shot back. The large round platform rose fast, jostling everyone nearly off their feet. Once they reached the top, the shaking had become more severe, rubble started falling from the ceiling, and a krogan accompanied by several geth were waiting for them._

_"Surrender," he said, "or don't. I'd like a little fun."_

_"There a reason you're in my way?" Shepard shouted, gun raised. Liara moved back, biotic blue flaring around her, as did Garrus, keeping his rifle trained on the krogan. Wrex moved alongside Shepard, shotgun held low and easy._

_"Saren wants the doctor, and Saren gets what he wants."_

_"The goddamn ruin is coming down!" She yelled, stating the obvious._

_The krogan just grinned. "Exhilarating, isn't it?"_

_"I've got this one, Shepard." Wrex twisted his head and worked a kink out of his neck._

_"Do you?" Suddenly, the krogan had a gun in his hand, and the geth raised their rifles and fired._

_It was a hellish couple of minutes, ground shaking, rock falling from the ceiling, lights flickering on and off, weapons fire everywhere in the relatively confined quarters of the platform. Shepard ran from cover to cover, drawing fire, while Liara yanked the geth into the air and Garrus shot them down one by one. Wrex had engaged the krogan, and managed to get close enough to disarm him. They wrestled briefly, evenly matched as Wrex bared his teeth and tried to get his shotgun clear to end the fight, but the other krogan managed to wrestle it free and throw it away. Then it came to blows, back and forth, vicious haymakers and headbutts._

_Shepard lept - actually _lept_ - onto the back of the krogan, climbing atop it's hump and unloading her rifle until the barrel glowed red. But the heavy shields he had, plus the natural regenerative abilities of the krogan meant that even this wasn't enough to finish the fight, and he bucked, sending Shepard flying backward hard onto the stairs. Garrus couldn't line up a shot with Wrex so close, and while he tried to reposition himself, Liara did the same._

_But by the time they had a clear shot, it was over - Wrex worked his hands underneath his opponent's arms, then, glowing a mighty blue, threw him fully twenty feet up into the air. Liara caught him, biotic combining with biotic, and the explosion all but vaporized the helpless krogan._

_That had been a surprise. Wrex's biotics faded, and Shepard looked genuinely shocked for the first time Garrus had seen._

_Wrex stomped up and helped Shepard to her feet. "What are you staring at? Place is still coming down."_

"Wrex is a _biotic?"_

"It's not something he advertises," the Primarch replied, "but yeah. He is."

"I thought that took - I mean -"

"Self-control? Discipline?" He barked out a laugh. "Yeah, Wrex is a great big bundle of krogan contradictions."

I wanted to ask more, but I figured that would come later. "So you made it out okay?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Oh yes, just in time, skin of our teeth, all the cliches you'd expect. Joker even brought the Normandy down so we didn't have to drive the damn Mako back to the LZ. All in all, a complete success."

He tilted his head and gave me a significant look. "And as for the Mako..."

_Garrus and Shepard stood side by side, gazing at the pitted, burned, battered armor of the tank. Scorch marks ran up and down it's length, the places where the metal actually began to melt from the tremendous heat of leaping over volcanic lava floes were a stark reminder of how close they had come to a very unpleasant death._

_Shepard's arms were crossed, her expression pensive, thoughtful. Eventually, she spoke._

_"I think it could go faster."_

_He turned, ever so slowly, and gave her his best 'are-you-crazy' look. She either didn't notice, or didn't care. She was still staring at the tank, and he could still see that gleam in her eye._

_"I think I can do that."_

_She didn't look at him, but she did smile, big and wide, then slapped him on the chest. "Don't stay up too late, Garrus," she said in a singsong tone of voice as she headed back to the elevator._

_Garrus just sighed and went to get his toolchest. First step was removing the speed governors..._


	11. Shipmates

"So where did you go next?" I asked, shaking out my wrist. The words were coming easier, for him and me.

"Where _didn't_ we go," he said, batting the question back at me. "For all the importance of our mission, everyone wanted a bit of the Spectre's time - Anderson, Hackett, ambassadors and information brokers. At times it felt like we were the galaxy's gofer, a glorified errand boy. And other times..."

He flexed one hand into a fist and curled the other around it. "Other times, we were just being used for someone's petty gain."

_Shepard punched the table, hard._

_She had stormed back onto the Normandy, Garrus and Kaidan in tow, said nothing to anyone and headed straight for the cargo bay. Ripped off her armor, threw it in her locker and ended up leaning against the workbench looking royally pissed._

_Garrus and Kaidan had followed her down, ostensibly to pack up their own armor, in actuality to make sure she didn't lock and load and charge back onto the Citadel. They both felt the same way she did, Garrus knew, but they both agreed there wasn't anything they could do._

_Shepard didn't like that. She took it hard._

_It wasn't that she regretted what she had done - the woman was a slaver, and a mercenary, and the galaxy was a better place for not having her in it. It was that she - _they_ - had been used, manipulated into action solely for Dantius' personal gain. Because they were stupid, because they were gullible, because they were trusting._

_Because they were bloodthirsty._

_It had been weeks since they had turned up anything on Saren, weeks of nothing but survey missions on uncharted worlds and the occasional pirate base or merc outpost. Even Cerberus had been quiet. Sure, that was military life - hurry up and wait - but they couldn't very well feel like they were making a difference by sitting around. So when this fell into their lap, they couldn't ignore it._

_They. Garrus was trying to spread the blame around, but he knew the truth - this was Shepard's ship, it was Shepard's call, and so maybe it was right that Shepard felt the worst._

_He left her there, in the cargo bay, leaning against Ash's workbench. She certainly wouldn't be getting anything done tonight. Neither would he, come to that. On a turian ship, he would have suggested a few rounds of sparring, but he didn't feel like he had the right. And she'd probably wipe the floor with the lot of them anyway. Didn't need to give her something else to feel bad about._

_Kaidan lingered outside the elevator, staring at her. "You coming?" Garrus asked. "Might as well eat something."_

_He looked back and shook his head. "I'll grab some later."_

_Garrus just nodded. The staff lieutenant knew her better than he did. He pressed the button for the crew deck and watched Kaidan walk back to her side as the doors closed._

"Kaidan and Shepard were close." Something in his expression didn't seem to match his tone. I couldn't tell what it was. "They got closer as the mission wore on. We all did, of course, but... well."

He stared down at his hands and I didn't have to be an expert on turian facial expressions to know he was uncomfortable. Part of me wanted to press him, but the better part of me won out, and changed the subject. If he wanted to talk about it, he'd talk about it later.

"Not to get away from Shepard," I said, hoping I didn't sound like I was trying too hard, "but was there anyone on the ship who _wasn't_ close with the rest of the crew?"

He glanced at me, then his eyes darted away. He wasn't looking at his hands anymore, at least. "Pressly could be difficult. He was the XO. Had probably the most xenophobic views of the entire crew, Williams included."

"Did he come around?"

Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah he did."

_"-just wants to make her family's lot in life a little easier. I can understand that."_

_Garrus had been walking by the mess hall table when he heard Pressly's voice. It was unmistakable - he'd gotten into it a few times with him over proper protocol when he first came aboard and he didn't forget a voice that irritating._

_He kept walking - he was on his way to the med-bay to pick up some extra medi-gel - but he slowed down to try and catch what he said next._

_"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Pressly?" Another crewman. Maybe Peterson? He couldn't keep all the names straight._

_"Look, I'm not saying I'd let her marry my son or anything," Pressly protested. "I'm just saying she's... got a better reason for being here than I thought, that's all."_

_"If you worked down in engineering, you would've liked her from the start," Possibly Peterson shot back. "She's already improved engine efficiency, and-"_

_Garrus ducked into the med-bay. So, he thought as he wandered over to the dispensery, Pressly was coming around on Tali. Maybe that meant that he would avoid another lecture on protocol next time he disassembled and cleaned his rifle on the mess hall table._

_Well. Probably not. But it was still good to hear._

"Oh!" The Primarch slapped his hand to his forehead. I jumped a little - I couldn't help it, he still made me nervous.

"I haven't even mentioned Chakwas." He shook his head and leaned his elbow on the table. "She would be _very_ upset."

"Chakwas was the ship's doctor, right? I heard about her after the war."

"Yeah, she served on the Normandy a while longer after the war, then went off to do some 'frontier medicine' on the colonies, whatever that meant." He shook his head again, scoffing at himself. "I was crushed when I heard she died. I owed her my life, several times over. Everyone on the ground crew did."

I didn't speak. I let him take a moment of silence. It lasted a handful of seconds, then he sat back up again.

"She could drink like a _fish_," he said, and I couldn't help but laugh. He turned and smiled at me. "The only one on the ship allowed to while aboardship, you know. Shepard often joined her. Everyone else had to wait until we were docked."

"Not that she drank on duty, of course." He settled back in his chair, hands back in his lap. "She was always a consummate professional. Even when she seemed like she wasn't, she was."

_"I really can't believe you, sometimes, Jeff."_

_"Oh come on, mom," Joker mocked, "I'm a big boy, I can take of mys-OW, hey, watch it!"_

_Chakwas gave him one of the more intense looks Garrus had seen her give. "You have _brittle bone disease_, Jeff. I don't know how you can forget that long enough to give someone a 'high-five.'"_

_"It's spur of the moment! That's the whole point!" Joker raised his other hand, index finger pointing authoritatively. "And sometimes, it's the only proper response."_

_"Sorry," Garrus apologized again._

_"God, it's not a big deal, Garrus," Joker shot back, "no matter what Karin says. You're new around here, and I've broken plenty of bones just from sneezing too hard. This is nothing.__"_

_"Perhaps if you had to reset your _own_ bones, you wouldn't think so." Chakwas frowned. "I have other things I could be doing, Jeff."_

_"Other than tending to your favorite patient?" Joker pouted. "That hurts, doc. No seriously that hurts _owwwww-_"_

_"Alright," she said, all business again, wrapped a stiff bandage around Joker's hand. "Now let this be a lesson to you. After all, a pilot with no hands isn't much of a pilot at all."_

_"I don't know," Joker mused, flexing his fingers, "Pretty sure I can fly this baby better than anyone else in the fleet with one hand tied behind my back."_

_"Yes, yes, keep stroking that ego," Chakwas shot back as she returned to her desk. "It's too bad, I don't have anything that can treat a swelled head." She shooed them both. "Now out, the both of you."_

_As Garrus exited the med-bay alongside Joker, he glanced back. "Chakwas seems to worry about you."_

_"Yeah," Joker replied, his usual sarcastic tone mixing with something else. "The doctor who worries herself sick." He stared back and adjusted his cap. "She's good people, Garrus. I give her a hard time, but..."_

_"Yeah," he said with a nod. "I get it."_

_Joker half-smiled and hobbled on ahead, heading back up to the cockpit. Garrus couldn't help but let his gaze linger on his newly bandaged hand._

"You know," I said as gently as I could, "that's the first time you've mentioned the pilot, too. Mr. Moreau?"

He blinked his big blue eyes at me, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. He seemed like he was about to continue when his omni-tool blinked. Quickly, he checked it, read something, then stood up.

"I'll be right back," he said, throwing open the door and jogging out into the growing dusk.

I was left alone. Again.

Where was he even going?


	12. Intermission

He was gone. One second he was there, and the next, right out the door.

I just sat there for a bit, wondering what message he could possibly have received that would have sent him storming out of his home at dusk. Did something happen? Was it an emergency? What if someone he knew was sick or hurt? Or what if it was someone from the Turian Hierarchy? What if they needed his help? When would he be back? What was I supposed to do until then?

_Slow down, Alisa. Breath. Think._

I breathed, and I thought. I was no expert on turian moods or expressions, but having been with him for the better part of a day I felt like I could tell when something was wrong. He didn't look particularly worried or upset when he left, and he didn't seem shocked when he read the message. He just looked... harried. He moved quickly and with purpose. So it probably wasn't an emergency, which meant he would be back.

But when? It had already been a couple minutes. And where was he even going? There wasn't anywhere to go on this island except...

I strained my ears, but couldn't hear anything that sounded like a skycar over the white noise of the waves crashing against the beach outside. The tide was up, and the sea was much closer to the deck.

I stood and stretched. Whereever he went, he'd be back. If he was so mistrustful of me to begin with, he wouldn't leave me alone in his home for long. Slowly, I smiled. Yeah, that made sense. _Might as well have a look around_.

I wandered over to the wall of pictures. The rifle on the decorative plaque in the center was very old, worn and well used. I didn't even see a slot for a thermal clip. This must have been something from his days aboard the SR-1. Maybe even before, from his turian military service. I wasn't exactly an expert on firearms, though. It could have been a pop-gun for all I knew.

The pictures surrounding it were more my speed - numerous photos with family and friends. I recognized a lot of faces - Urdnot Wrex standing beside him, arms crossed over his chest, the Primarch's hands behind his back, both of them standing in some great big hall of some kind, probably on Tuchanka. Another on the opposite side was less formal - Wrex was sitting on a rock, legs wide and elbows on his knees, laughing, while the Primarch was fending off an attack by a varren. A smiling, happy varren that was... licking him?

Another set of photos along the right side showed the Primarch with various humans - Admiral Hackett shaking his hand, a young Captain Alenko in a couple of photos, a muscled man she didn't immediately recognize who was grinning and pointing at the fading scars on his face, Jeff Moreau trying to put an SR-2 baseball cap on the Primarch's head, and what I realized must be Karin Chakwas leaning against the Primarch, a rather tipsy looking grin on both their faces.

There were others above and below the plaque containing the gun - one of him with a tattooed woman of questionable fashion sense sticking her tongue out at the camera, one of him engaging in mock combat with another much younger krogan, one of him with a rather pious looking young drell, another with a salarian in a white coat that looked like it was taken aboard a ship. I didn't recognize any of those people.

The left side of the plaque seemed sparser, somehow. There were pictures of him with other turians here - a smaller, more willowy turian with a short crest leaning on him with her elbow (_a female?_), another older turian with the same markings on his face in a rather stiff and formal pose (_father, definitely_), a larger turian with different markings (_the last Primarch, Victus I think_), and one of him sitting next to a bed in what is clearly a hospital. The turian in the bed is older, more frail, but with the same markings, and a short crest adorned with feathers. She was smiling, at least I thought she was, but it looked strained (_his mother was sick?)_.

Just as I was wondering who took most of these photos, one caught my eye - Admiral Tali'Zorah and Primarch Vakarian, sitting close together on what looked like a park bench, her arm extending past the frame. She was holding the camera. I doubted she had taken every one of the photos on the wall, but it would explain how decidedly unguarded a lot of them were.

And there still wasn't a single picture of Shepard. It was baffling.

I looked around for a clock and couldn't find one. It had to have been nearly ten minutes since he left. Where could he be?

Suddenly I thought I heard something. I ran to the door, opened it, and found the source - a skycar was taking off on the other side of the island, slowly rising, then shooting off to the north, towards the mainland.

I couldn't believe it. Had he really just left me here? What did he expect me to do? Wait? Sleep? Would he even be back by morning?

I turned around and shut the door, running my hand through my hair. He wouldn't just leave without telling me why... would he? But what reason did he have to tell me where he was going? I had just intruded into his life today, he didn't owe me anything. But still, to just up and leave me here...

I found my gaze drifting towards the door to his study. It was closed, but not locked.

_Well, if he left you here, he can't expect you to stay in this room forever. Just don't touch anything and it'll be fine._

I reached out, hesitated, then opened the door.

At first it seemed normal - large shelving units took up the walls on either side of the desk in front of me, filled with e-books, datapads, hard drives, computer cores, and other ephemera. A small metal toolchest sat by the foot of the chair, the kind used by professional mechanics who needed lots of delicate or specific tools. The desk was built into the wall, on either side were recessed drawers and cabinets, some with locks, some without. Above the desk was a single large window stretching it's entire length, and strewn across the desk itself were numerous datapads, some stacked ten high, with no discernible organization.

I walked in and turned around, and the mundanity disappeared. The wall to the living room was covered in guns, every conceivable shape and size represented. Some were missing from their racks, and lay on the ground against the wall. Others were long and large, and he had leaned them in the corner, like a particularly deadly broom. Now I understood the purpose of the toolchest - it no doubt contained all that he would need to clean and maintain this collection of death-dealing implements.

There was another door on the left, one that no doubt led to the second floor. Briefly, I considered opening it, but that was too far. Even if he did leave me here, he was still Garrus Vakarian. He deserved his privacy.

That's why I decided I wouldn't touch anything, either. That, and I didn't want to accidentally fire one of the weapons, or open up the wrong datapad and learn some key military secret about the Hierarchy. No, I was content to just have a sit in his little wheeled chair and spin around.

The weight of history was present in this room as much as the other. I wondered how many decisions of galactic importance he had made sitting in this chair, in this room, in this house. He'd only fully retired a year ago, and this place was older than that. Coordinating the reconstruction of Palaven, debating the location of the new Council Chambers, finalizing the Tuchanka Accords...

Another burst of enthusiasm hit me as I gazed around the room. "Wow," I said aloud, grinning like a fool. "I'm _here_."

That's when I heard the front door open behind me.

_Oh no._

I spun around in the chair and practically _lept_ out of it, nearly knocking it over, racing to the door. I found the Primarch giving me a _very_ hard look, balancing something large and flat in his right hand.

"Oh my god Primarch I am so sorry I thought you left because I saw the skycar leave and I just thought I'd take a look around but not anywhere but here really I mean I didn't go upstairs or anything I just wanted to see the office and-"

I took a breath and it wasn't enough, so I took another. The Primarch's expression shifted again and he walked up to me. "Alright, alright, calm down," he said, resting another hand on my shoulder. "Just... get out of there."

He gently but firmly pushed me out of the room while I struggled not to hyperventilate. I managed to make it back to the table, and he set down what I now realized were two flat square boxes. "I'll get you some more water," he said with some resignation.

"Where were you, sir?" I asked, eager to know and just as eager to change the subject from my terrible mistake. "You got a message and just... stormed out."

"I knew this would take a while," he said, slowly walking back with my glass in his hand, "and I didn't have any levo food on hand, so I ordered something for dinner earlier."

"Food?" I blinked. He pointed at the box. I looked down. "Pizza!"

"The one on the bottom is dextro," he said as I tore open the box and immediately went for a slice. I was _beyond_ starving. "Don't eat that one unless you feel peckish for anaphylactic shock."

"Deshtwuo peetzha?" I asked around a mouthful of _delicious_ pepperoni.

He shrugged. "A rough equivalent. I've gotten to know the guy who owns the place. They make 'em special for me. Takes a while for the delivery to get here, so I call way in advance." He set down the glass of water in front of me. I immediately reached out for it and gulped it down - I had already succeeded in burning the roof of my mouth with hot cheese, but it felt good.

"So since it's such a trip and I make them go so far out of their way for me," he continued, walking around the table back to his chair, "they shoot me a message when they're close and I go out and meet them at the garage. No need to make them walk all the way down the path."

I paused, already finishing my first slice. "So... that's why you left?"

He sat down, crossed his arms, and gave me a stern look. I lowered my crust and averted my eyes. "I'm sorry, sir."

The look lingered a full three heartbeats (I counted) and then he sighed and shook his head. "Forget it, kid. No harm done." He froze and his expression shifted. "Right?"

"No!" I waved my hands in front of me. "No no no, no harm done. Nothing touched. Just... sat in a chair, that's all. Well, I spun in it a few times, but-"

"Okay." He held up his own hand. "Then forget it. Let's eat."

So we did - mine was pepperoni and sausage, his was... red 'cheese,' with something green and crunchy and something else that was... blue? I couldn't even try to guess, but he seemed to enjoy it. Honestly, it wasn't the best pizza on Earth, but it was _good_, and I hadn't eaten all day. Neither had he, come to think of it.

"So, is it always the same delivery guy?" I asked, getting myself another slice.

"No," he replied, taking a bite out of crust. "They alternate. Sometimes I think they draw straws."

"It _is_ a long flight," I said, nodding sagely.

He chuckled a little. "No no, whoever _wins_ gets to make the delivery." When I looked confused, he waved his half-eaten crust at me playfully. "I tip _very_ well."

That was that, it seemed. We made smalltalk while we ate, nothing substantial or insightful. He didn't bring up my intrusion into his office again. I didn't ask any questions. For the next half hour, the pen and paper lay forgotten by both of us, and we set to the task of eating an unhealthy amount of pizza.


	13. The Small Moments

Eventually, the two pizzas lay decimated before us. Crusts scattered the boxes, fallen soldiers in the Battle of the Dining Room Table. We sat victorious, rubbing our burgeoning stomachs and drinking deeply of our water and wine.

What can I say? I got poetic on a full stomach.

Slowly, the Primarch turned to regard me, hands laced together against his stomach, legs stretched out and slumped in his chair. "Not to rush, but we've still got a lot to get through tonight."

"Of course," I replied easily. I was about as relaxed as I had been since I set foot on this island. Breaking bread with someone had a way of doing that, I supposed. I pushed away my pizza box, revealing the pen and pad of paper. I picked up the one and tapped it lightly against the other.

"Where were we?" He asked.

"I don't think it matters," I said.

He paused, then gave me a nod and a smile. "I guess you're right."

_It was a clear night. The stars were out._

_Somehow it was different looking at the stars from a planet instead of a ship. Perpetual night aboard the Normandy, no matter what shift it was, no matter what cycle it was. You looked out a window (and eventually you always looked out a window when you were aboard a ship for long enough) and all you saw was stars and occasionally the wake of the FTL drive._

_On a planet like this one, a temperate, untainted garden world of rolling plains and few trees, the stars held a light that you couldn't really see from space. Just filtering through the atmosphere, he reminded himself clinically. Just light refraction. But he still stared up at them._

_"It is different, isn't it," Shepard said, thoughts mirroring his own. He glanced over. She was laying on her back, arms crossed in front of her, one leg over another. Her head was closest to him and her red hair spilled across the ground._

_"Told you," Ashley said from the other side of the campfire. "That's what happens when you live on ships your whole life. You stop really _seeing_ the stars."_

_The three of them had taken the Mako down to scout another uncharted world, surveying it for possible future colonization. It was a simple mission and a welcome reprieve - after Zhu's Hope and then dealing with that biotic hostage situation, they needed to take a moment to breath. And once they got down and started placing survey markers, Ash had started talking about camping with her sisters as a kid and it came out that Shepard was an army brat who lived on ships her whole life and Garrus had grown up in a city and all of a sudden they were gathering up flammable materials and setting them alight. It wasn't even that cold, Garrus thought, and the Mako was certainly warm enough, but Ashley had insisted that it was important to the experience._

_Laying by the fire, hearing it crackle and roar in the occasional gust of wind, he realized she had a point. There was something primal about fire, something soothing and safe. Apparently human and turian culture were similar in that respect._

_"It's not camping," Garrus said, breaking the sudden veil of silence that had settled over the group, "but back on Palaven, I once took a skycar up to the Relan Mountains, east of Cipritine. Stayed up there all night, just marvelling at the view."_

_"That before you shipped out?" Ashley asked, still staring at the stars._

_"Yeah."_

_"Did the same thing myself," she replied. "Went all the way up to Pico da Neblina. Highest mountain in Brazil. You could see forever up there. Tried to take it all in one last time, you know?"_

_"I know."_

_Another silence began to settle over the makeshift camp. It didn't last._

_"Were you alone?"_

_Garrus glanced over at Shepard. She was still looking up at the stars._

_"Yes."_

_"...Yes."_

_Shepard laughed. "I believe him, Williams, but I don't believe you."_

_"What does _that_ mean?" Garrus shot back, mildly offended._

_"Come on, Commander-"_

_"Don't start pulling rank on me now, Ash," Shepard said, settling her hands behind her head and raising her knee._

_Garrus couldn't see Ashley through the campfire, but he expected she was giving her CO a dirty look._

_"Alright, alright," she said, "Yeah, I was up there with someone."_

_"Of course you were."_

_"It's not a crime."_

_"I never said it was."_

_"I was shipping out the next day."_

_"I completely understand."_

_A third and final silence rang through the camp, but it wasn't the same as the others. Garrus knew exactly when this one would end. He waited for it._

_"So what was his name?"_

_"Shepard!"_

_She laughed._

_"God, I'm sorry I brought it up."_

_"Alright, alright," Shepard said, grinning from ear to ear. "Just giving you a hard time, Ash."_

_He could practically hear Ashley pouting. "Because you're jealous of our planetary upbringing."_

_"No," Garrus said, propping himself up on an elbow and smirking at Shepard. "She just doesn't like being excluded from a conversation."_

_Shepard shot a sidelong look at him. He flared his mandibles and grinned. She furrowed her brow, mock angry, then turned back to the stars. Garrus settled back onto the ground. He knew he was right._

_"Shepard?"_

_"Yeah, Ash?"_

_A pause. "Sorry."_

_"Don't be." Shepard sighed. "I got to see them eventually."_

_They looked up at the stars until they fell asleep. For once, Garrus let Shepard take first watch. She took it like a punishment for giving them hell, but before he nodded off, he saw Shepard still staring up at the stars, smiling._

He paused, huffed a little laugh. He shot me a smile. "Would you believe that's the story I've been waiting to tell? More than the Reapers, or any of her missions?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'd believe it."

His eyes twinkled, and I wondered if it was because he was misty eyed or just so happy to share that moment with someone else. Maybe both.

He turned away from me. "You really don't mind? If I skip over some of the... bigger stories?"

"All due respect, sir," I said, leaning back in my chair, "it's not my story to tell."

He looked at me again and this time something in his eyes bothered me. I wondered if I had said something wrong, but he looked away again before I could really consider it.

"Well..." He shrugged. "Then all you need to know is after weeks of waiting, we got a distress signal from a human colony on Feros, called Zhu's Hope. More geth attacking a human colony, and another lead on Saren. Shepard did all she could to protect the colonists, but."

He swallowed. "She had to put one down. Some fucking corporate lapdog for Exogeni. She didn't lose any sleep over _him_, but she did over what had happened to the colonists."

_"You ever wonder what we're fighting for, Vakarian?"_

_Garrus jumped a little. He hadn't see her sitting at the mess hall table. He had been up late resealing the Mako's inner hull after their jaunt on Feros and was headed to one of the communal sleeping pods when she had spoken._

_"No," he said slowly, feeling out the conversation. "Not particularly. You?"_

_Shepard was sitting there, elbows up and hands resting upon each other. She looked calm enough, but Garrus saw that soldier's look in her eye that she got sighting down her rifle in a firefight._

_"We're doing our damnedest to save the galaxy," she said, her voice clipped and cutting, "and while we're risking everything, they're out there _torturing_ people. For_ money._"_

_"They?" Garrus asked, walking over to the chair across from her._

_Shepard flicked a hand into the air and let it fall back to the table, shaking her head. "They. Them. ExoGeni. Cerberus. The Alliance. Anyone. Someone somewhere, right now, is figuring out how best to fuck someone over so he can get just a _little bit_ further ahead than he was before."_

_"They're not the majority, Shepard."_

_"Are you sure?" She looked up at him sitting across from her, hard eyes framed by red hair. She quickly dropped her gaze back to her hands. "Sometimes I wonder."_

_Garrus sighed. "Sometimes... it can be hard to see past them to the rest of the galaxy."_

_They sat there together for what seemed like a while until Shepard looked up at him again._

_"That all?"_

_He looked confused. "All of what?"_

_"All you're going to say." She leaned back in her chair, regarding him cooly. "I'm your commanding officer, the woman who recruited you for this insane mission, and I'm expressing doubt that we should continue. Is that all you have to say to me?"_

_Garrus flexed one mandible and gave her a knowing look. "Shepard, if I had any doubts about your resolve, I wouldn't be sitting her talking to you."_

_"That so?"_

_"Of course." He shrugged. "We've all had thoughts like that. I was full of them in C-Sec. But I still went to work every day. I still did my job. I still gave everything I had every moment of every day to try and do what little good I could. And if_ I_ could do that-"_

_"-then I can too," she finished with a sigh._

_"No," he said. "You can do _better._"_

_She looked up at him and met his eyes, eyebrows raised. He leaned forward and continued, "I haven't served with you for very long, Shepard, so forgive me if I'm stepping out of line, but quite frankly I don't think there's anything you _couldn't_ do, let alone wouldn't do, to complete this mission. You don't need me to reassure you and set you back on course, just like you don't need me to _breath_ for you. Who you are won't let you doubt what's right, not for one second. And more than anything, _that's_ why I'm here."_

_Shepard kept staring at him. Garrus felt suddenly very self-conscious and tore himself away from her eyes. He shouldn't feel that way - he'd only spoken the truth - but he wished he hadn't _gushed_ quite so much. It wasn't professional._

_All of a sudden he felt her hand on his and he turned back, startled. He was wearing thick gloves, but her five fingers on top of his three still felt thoroughly alien. She patted the back of his hand a couple times, then pulled away. "Thanks, Garrus. Think I needed that."_

_He shook his head. "No you didn't." He pushed himself out of his chair. "But you're welcome."_

_Shepard grinned weakly at him, and he left her there to stew in the mess hall. Garrus felt like he'd helped, hoped he had, but as he lay there waiting for sleep to claim him, he suddenly wasn't sure._


	14. Getting Closer

"It wasn't the right thing to say." He grumbled and crossed his arms, mandibles twitching arhythmically. "She didn't need someone to gush over her, tell her she was so wonderful and perfect and she could never fail. I was so caught up in admiring her that I..."

He stopped and ran one hand over his fringe. He shook his head and sighed. "It was the wrong thing to say."

"She seemed to appreciate it," I commented gently.

He scoffed and crossed his arms again, staring intently at the table. He didn't say anything.

"Well then..." I figured I'd ask. "What _was_ the right thing to say?"

He took in a breath, opened his mouth, halted, closed it, and released the breath. He did this a couple more times, until finally he said, "I don't know, something sardonic and dry and witty and charming, something that would make her laugh and take her mind off her doubt, something that let her feel..." He huffed out a sigh that might have been a laugh. "...human."

He shook his head. "I was too young. And I didn't know Shepard yet. Not really."

"Forgive me for saying so, sir," I said, already regretting the phrasing, "but it sounds like you two were already close."

He smiled mirthlessly and shook his head at me. "Not yet."

The words hung in the air. I didn't know what to say. Well, that was a lie. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, I just didn't want to say it. We'd finally built a rapport and I didn't want to jeopardize it anymore than I already had. But what was I building it for if not to ask him questions like this? I had to start sometime. If what I was doing was going to mean anything at all, I _had_ to.

"Then when?"

Even as I asked I was very afraid I'd crossed a line. But his expression softened, his blue eyes grew wistful, and his mandibles puffed out briefly.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said solemnly. "But I can guess."

_"Oh thank you, thank you for saving me from those... things. Now - wait, are yo-"_

_Saleon's head slammed against the cabin wall, Garrus' forearm across his neck, gun at his temple. He'd chased this son of a bitch for years, seen the monstrous things he'd done. And now thanks to Shepard, he finally had him right where he wanted him._

_"Your days of butchering are over, _doctor," _he spat. "I'd harvest your organs, but we just don't have the time."_

_Saleon was groping feebly at his arm, choking out words. "Crazy... he's... crazy. Don't... let him do this to me..."_

_"No more tricks, Saleon, no more words." He felt every ounce of the pistol's weight in his hands. He saw every fleck of fear in Saleon's big almond eyes. He wanted to remember this for a long time. "Unlike your victims, you'll go quick."_

_Suddenly he felt a weight on his shoulder. Reluctant to turn away, he shifted his eyes. Shepard had stepped alongside him, rifle in one hand, the other on him._

_"We take him in."_

_He couldn't believe she was even suggesting it. "No. We can't risk it. He escapes, he'll go right back to work. I can't live with that. I can end this right here, right now. Forever."_

_"He dies and we never know how he did what he did."_

_"Doesn't matter."_

_Shepard's grip tightened on his shoulder. He could feel it through his armor._

_"He dies, and his victims go unidentified."_

_His eyes shifted back to the salarian. Saleon choked and gasped. His gun was heavy in his hand, yearning._

_"Death is easy, Garrus. Don't let him off easy."_

_She released her hand from his shoulder. He glanced her way. Shepard was backing off. Garrus turned his attention back to Saleon and the gun against his temple. She was letting him make the call. And he wanted to. He very much wanted to._

_He released his grip and the salarian fell to the floor, gasping for air. Garrus holstered his pistol before he could think better of it._

_"You're a very lucky salarian, _doctor." _He took a couple steps back, flexed his claws into fists over and over again. "The commander just saved your life."_

_Saleon rubbed his thin throat, slowly standing and stepping forward. His voice was raspy, but his sarcasm was evident. "Oh, thank you so _very_ much-" and he snapped his hand under his desk as he stood and suddenly he had a heavy pistol pointed at Garrus' face, and even as he went for the gun he had just holstered against his left hip he knew he wouldn't be fast enough and his shields weren't strong enough to stop a bullet at this range so this was it, this was the last thing he'd ever see-_

_Saleon's head exploded, brain matter scattering off to Garrus' left, onto his desk. His body crumpled like a puppet with it's strings cut at Garrus' feet. He turned and saw Shepard, rifle pointed, barrel smoking. She straightened and relaxed, lowering the gun, but her features were locked in a scowl._

_For a minute, they were silent. Garrus stared at the blood pooling around the corpse and became conscious that what he'd thought was the hum of the ship's engines beneath the deck plates was the blood rushing through his ears._

_"And he's dead anyway," he said, his voice tight. "What was the point of any of that?"_

_He heard Shepard walk up next to him, but he didn't look at her. When he finally did, her expression had softened to a frown. She stared down at the body, then back up at Garrus._

_"You're the better man."_

_"Because I didn't kill him?" He shot back, but she was already shaking her head._

_"Because when you had your chance, you thought about someone other than yourself."_

_Shepard looked back at the body. "Circumstances are always changing. All you can do is choose how you react. That's what matters." She grimaced. "Least that's how I see it."_

_Garrus didn't look back. He regarded Shepard's profile, as closely as he had Saleon's blood soaked corpse, until she realized he was staring and met his eyes with a look that said 'do we have a problem?'_

_"Don't think I ever met anyone like you, commander," he said in a bemused sort of way._

_She visibly relaxed, almost but not quite quirking up one end of her mouth. Of course they didn't have a problem. Shepard and Vakarian? They never had a problem._

_"We done here?"_

_Garrus turned back to the body, the blood starting to seep it's way towards his boots. He nodded and started to turn around, head back towards where they had docked with Saleon's ship._

_"Yeah. I guess we are."_

"That's when I realized she was more than just an exceptional commander." He rested his mouth against his hands, muffling his dual-toned voice. "No other CO I'd ever served under would have done anything more than give me an order and expect me to follow it. She'd let me make the call. Even when it turned bad, she didn't blame me. It simply was what it was. Circumstances changed, and... we reacted."

He sighed, a low purr escaping from his chest. "If she'd ordered me to back off, I would have done it. She knew that. But things wouldn't have been the same between us. And she knew that, too."

I let him sit for a minute, collect himself. Reliving that particular memory had taken some effort. I wondered... it was hard to say, and maybe I was reading too much into it, but something about the words he used and the way he spoke made me think that it wasn't really _that_ story that upset him. Maybe it reminded him of something else, something more painful.

Once I thought that he'd had his moment and any more silence would hurt more than it would help, I prompted: "After that, you two were closer?"

He considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. We were. What happened after Virmire, though, that cemented our friendship."

Before I could ask, he put up a hand. "That comes later. No skipping ahead." He smiled at me, and I realized it had been a while since it had reached his eyes. "Don't worry, you'll like this next part. It involves your mother."


	15. Once a Cop

I knew this was coming. I had known since we had begun that we would eventually get here. Hell, it was the reason I had decided to do this to begin with. Why would it bother me? It shouldn't. But my heart still lept into my throat, even as my stomach plunged down through the floor. I felt my shoulders and back tense up and I flexed my hands to keep them from trembling. My face flushed and I could already tell I would be beading sweat in moments.

I was a mess. It was impossible for him not to notice.

"You alri-"

"Fine." I interrupted the Primarch. I _interrupted_ the _Primarch._ "Sorry, I'm... I'm okay."

I could see his expression change, but I couldn't tell what it was anymore. I wasn't exactly in an analytical state of mind. His tone was sympathetic, that much I could tell, as he laced his fingers together in his lap. "Take your time."

I did. It only took me a minute. After a few deep breaths, I clenched my jaw, wrapped my hand around the pen, steadied myself, and looked him right in the eye.

With my mind in a better place, I could tell he was smiling. "Your mother was... less flappable than you."

I laughed and it came out sounding like a sob. "Yeah?"

He reached out and lightly nudged me in the shoulder. "Yeah."

_Originally Garrus wasn't going to come on the Noveria ground op - Shepard had wanted Liara with her, for obvious reasons, and Kaidan for biotic and tech backup._

_Garrus didn't mind, in as much as he normally worried when he was left behind. It was a control thing, or so he thought - he didn't like being out of the loop. He wanted to be on the frontlines and constantly aware of new developments, instead of feeling useless when he was on the ship, puttering around and performing what had become thoroughly ritualized tasks._

_But that wasn't all, and he was just beginning to realize it. He was anxious because he wasn't covering her six. He was nervous because something might happen to her and he wouldn't be there to pull her ass out of the fire. It certainly wasn't that he doubted her ability, or the abilities of the rest of the crew. Far from it. It was just... Shepard was his commander. He felt he should be there._

_Hell. Maybe he just needed to shoot something._

_Regardless, he had helped Ash clean all the ship's guns (and Garrus thought _he_ was a bundle of nerves when not on assignment) and was elbow deep in the Mako's innards when the elevator door opened._

_"Vakarian!"_

_He slammed in his forehead into the underbelly of the tank and cursed quietly in every language he could as he slid out._

_"Commander, what is it?" He looked up at her from the ground. "Don't tell me we're done here already."_

_"Not by a long shot," she said, offering a hand up which he took. "Circumstances have changed."_

_"They have a tendency to," he said, dusting himself off._

_"I need a cop."_

_Garrus brow plates raised slightly. It was about as surprised as he could look. "Good or bad?"_

_She gave him a half-smile. "That's up to you."_

_He grinned. "Well then let's get moving."_

_As he followed her to the elevator he turned back and saw Ash give him a shocked and mildly jealous look. He did his best to look equally surprised and not at all smug when he shrugged at her._

"I must say," he said, stroking his chin, "it felt nice to be needed."

I smiled, a bit strained, but honest. "It's easy to forget you were C-Sec once."

The Primarch titled his head at me and chuckled. "Once a cop, always a cop. Never really goes away."

There was a brief pause that was still too long for me.

"So this is the part with my mother?" I asked, mouth suddenly dry.

His mandibles twitched as I drank some of my water. "It'll be a bit. Noveria was... complicated."

_By the time they got into Port Hanshan proper, Garrus had already discovered why she needed a cop. The place reminded him starkly of the Citadel - pristine on the outside with a very seedy underbelly. They hadn't been there more than ten minutes before a hanar merchant offered them payment for smuggling goods, and the local security forces (who Shepard had apparently had a run in with before she even set foot in the station) began not-so-subtly tailing them. If it weren't for the snow falling outside the windows, he'd have felt right at home._

_Shepard had already spoken with the Administrator, a salarian named Anoleis who she described as 'a real piece of work.' She had also met with his assistant, a Ms. Parasini, who seemed to be more than what she appeared. After being stonewalled by Anoleis, Parasini had given her a quick message to talk to a Lorik Qui'in down in the hotel lounge, and that was where Garrus came in._

_The first step was losing their tail. Easy enough - Garrus and Shepard went one way, Liara and Kaidan went the other. They milled about, visiting the merchants, watching the vidlinks, checking limited access extranet terminals, listening to sales pitches about omni-tool upgrades. Shepard's tail was more dogged than the others, but Liara was visibly anxious, and as a result ended up attracting most of the attention. Kaidan did his best to look suspicious as well, which wasn't much at all, but it helped._

_"Is this really necessary?" Shepard grumbled as they made their way slowly around the port._

_"You wanted my expertise, as I recall," Garrus mumbled, low tonals muffling his voice as they walked._

_"Yeah, yeah." Shepard brushed some hair out of her eyes. "Are they gone yet?"_

_Garrus checked his visor - he had it displaying an image from the rear-facing hidden camera. "Yeah, think we lost 'em in that last crowd. We should move fast."_

_"Good." She twisted her neck and Garrus heard an audible pop. "Let's get to work."_

_The lounge in the lone hotel at Port Hanshan was just as clean and just as dirty as the rest of it - a krogan on the upper level was shouting into his communicator, an asari was quite obviously trying to spy on a table eight meters away, and Lorik Qui'in sat lounging, one arm thrown over the back of his chair, near the large bay windows to Noveria's ice cold surface._

_He had darker skin for a turian, going well with his cyan colony markings. He subtly sized them up as they approached. Garrus could tell whatever he was up to, this man was no fool._

_"Afternoon," he greeted, flanging voice taking a jovial tone. "Sit down, have a drink. What can I do for you?"_

_"You Lorik Qui'in?" Shepard asked, taking the seat across from him. He nodded. "Heard you could help me out."_

_"Really?" He sipped his drink. Shepard grimaced - Garrus knew she hated this process, dancing around a subject. If there was anything Shepard was, it was direct. Garrus sat down in the seat next to her, nudging her ever so slightly with his boot. The grimace disappeared._

_"You are the Spectre that just arrived, are you not?" He smiled politely. "What could an old turian like me possibly help you with?"_

_"Trying to find a way into the garage." She crossed her arms, leaned back a little, glanced away. "I have places to go."_

_"And you need a pass." His tone shifted. The pleasantries were over, it seemed. "How fortuitous."_

_Turned out Qui'in was the manager of the local Synthetic Insights office. Anoleis was having him investigated for corruption, but Qui'in implied it was far less noble._

_"The administrator is an interesting man," he said, swirling the liquid in his glass. "He has become quite wealthy since he took direct control of rents."_

_"Quite a coincidence," Garrus said, entering into the conversation for the first time. Qui'in turned and stared, as if seeing him for the first time._

_"Indeed." Qui'in downed the rest of his drink then set it upside down on the table. "I came into possession of evidence of his transactions. His hired goons are ransacking my office as we speak to find it. I suspect your goal lies outside the port. Anoleis would be... disinclined to let you wander."_

_"He's made that very clear." Shepard flexed her hands against her arms._

_"Recover that evidence from my office, and you'll have your access to the garage."_

_"You have a plan?" Garrus asked._

_"I do," he said smoothly. A real operator, this one. "But there is one other... what is that charming human expression? 'Fly in the... lotion?'"_

_"Ointment." Shepard smiled without humor. "And there usually is."_

_"The thugs searching my office? Members of the local security forces. Ms. Matsuo, head of security? She is unaware of their outside employment, so violence may be necessary."_

_Shepard glanced at Garrus, not long, just enough to gauge his reaction. Garrus nodded almost imperceptibly._

_"We're good at that," Shepard said, pushing herself up out of her seat. "If we're lucky, maybe they'll see reason."_

_As they walked away from the old turian, still sitting at the table trying to look as though he didn't have a care in the world, Shepard jerked her head back at him._

_"You trust him?"_

_Garrus considered what he'd heard and seen. "He's a sly one. Been doing this for so long it's like second nature. But he's getting old, and it shows. For all his nonchalance, he's worried. We're the only card he's got left to play."_

_"You comfortable killing cops?"_

_"They're not cops." Garrus corrected sternly, "They're private security. And if they're dirty, they're not even that." He looked over at her as they entered the elevator to the office levels of Port Hanshan. "I don't think they'll see reason, Shepard."_

_Shepard smiled wryly. "When have we ever been lucky, Garrus?"_


	16. Mom

_The elevator doors opened, revealing two guards conversing in the middle of the corridor. We didn't take two steps out before they noticed us._

_"Freeze! Hanshan Security. This office is sealed." The turian behind her drew a rifle and got a bead on Garrus, ignoring the commander. A poor strategy at the best of times._

_Shepard stalked up to the guard who had spoken with all the force and confidence she could muster. Garrus only caught the look in her eyes for a second before she got ahead of him, but it was enough to know the guards wouldn't be a problem for long. She got within arm's reach of them without a hint of fear, Garrus close behind._

_"Why?" was all Shepard said. The guard almost took a step back._

_"Anoleis' orders," she replied, doing an admirable job of keeping the fear out of her voice. "Qui'in is under investigation."_

_"You're taking money from Anoleis." It wasn't a question. The guard opened her mouth to say something, but Shepard cut her off. "Look at me."_

_They did. The turian guard slowly changed his target. Shepard didn't even spare him a glance._

_"Think hard," she said, her voice edged with menace. "Is it enough?"_

_The guard's eyes were as wide as dinner plates under her helmet. She exchanged a glance with her turian partner. They locked eyes, and he slowly lowered his weapon._

_"Not nearly," she said, quickly making her way around Shepard and Garrus. The other guard shook his head as he passed. Shepard didn't look back after them, just walked up to the door to the office and entered the passcode Qui'in had given them._

_"Guess I was wrong," Garrus mumbled. "They _did_ see reason."_

_A tight smile flickered across Shepard's face, and then it was gone. "There will be more inside. That won't work twice."_

_"What's that human phrase?" he said, drawing his rifle. "Fortune favors the bold?"_

_Shepard smiled again, more honest. "What is it with turians and human expressions?"_

_He shrugged, which is hard to do when shouldering an assault rifle. "Your people have a way with words."_

_"Least you got it right."_

_"I've always had a good memory."_

_The smiles disappeared and Shepard's hand hovered over the key to open the door._

_"Liara and Kaidan?" She asked._

_Garrus shook his head. "They're probably monitoring our comm channels. We call them, we bring the whole damn port down on us. Don't worry, Shepard. We've got this."_

_Her jaw tightened. She nodded. "Storm in five."_

_Five seconds later, they were in._

"Fighting with Shepard..." The Primarch didn't quite smile, but his eyes twinkled. "There was nothing else like it. It was pure military, orders barked over comms, all tactics and hand signals and two o'clock and ten o'clock. She'd give an order and not look back, trusting you to follow it. And you'd follow it because you trusted that she knew exactly what she was doing."

His head tilted a bit to the side. He had a faraway look in his eye.

"There were times when we didn't speak a word throughout the fight, just relied on signals and instinct and experience as a team. There were other times when we couldn't shut up, talking about anything and everything in between orders and bursts of gunfire." He reached out, took his drink, and downed the entire thing.

"There were times like our initial sweep of the Synthetic Insights office. Quick, clean, and smooth." He titled his head back toward me. "And then there were _all_ the other times."

_Garrus came out of the office, omni-tool full of all the data he could glean from Lorik Qui'in's personal terminal, and froze._

_There were four armed men facing down Shepard. Actually three - one was a woman, and she hadn't drawn yet. Neither had Shepard._

_"I don't think you're supposed to be in here, _Shepard,_" the leader spat, a blonde woman who was giving Shepard a dark look with narrowed eyes._

_Shepard's back was to Garrus. He couldn't see her face, but her tone spoke volumes. "You gonna make me leave?"_

_"Leave?" The woman with the blonde hair smiled humorlessly. "You really think I'm gonna let you walk out?"_

_Shepard said nothing. Garrus made his way very slowly to the side - he'd have a better vantage point here, across the small second floor bridge to Lorik's personal office. Ducking down behind the balcony, he drew his sniper rifle._

_He heard a small laugh. "Oh no. Anoleis would throw you off-world for what you did here. I won't. You know what we did to cop killers on my world?"_

_Garrus suppressed the urge to laugh. Cop killers. As though she was a cop. As though any of them were._

_"Guess I'll never know, since I'm not killing any _cops_ today."_

_He grinned, then rose, aimed, and fired. Shepard couldn't have sent a clearer signal to engage if she'd had brightly colored flags in each hand._

_The thug to the right went down, shields broken and helmet pierced with a single shot. Shepard dove for cover to her left, kicked over a table, shuffled behind it. Garrus ducked and waited for his rifle's cooling system to work and not for the first time wished he could speed the process. He heard the loud booming of Shepard's rifle, short staccato bursts of fire. When the meter on the stock was in the green, he shifted to his right, rose, scanned for a target, and fired again._

_The second shot dropped someone's shields, but nothing else. He ducked._

_"Vakarian," Shepard's voice broke into his comm. "How many shots can you get off with that thing before it overheats?"_

_"Two, but then I'm out for about ten seconds."_

_A brief pause. He checked his rifle. The meter was green. "Two shots," her voice tight and quiet. "Then short 'em, switch up and suppress."_

_"Ready."_

_"On my signal." He heard her rise, armor and boots clanking against the floor. "Now!"_

_He rose, aimed, found a target crouched behind cover, fired. He dropped, the inside of his head painting the wall behind him. He scanned around for a fraction of a second, found another target who was taking aim at him. He fired, dropping his shields, while Shepard leapt over his cover and slammed the butt of her rifle in his face. His helmet cracked like an egg between her gun and the wall, and he crumpled. Garrus quickly noticed that there were more than just four hostiles - three more were running up the stairs. He threw out his hand, fingers flickering over his omni-tool's holographic keys, and their shields dropped almost instantly as their weapons overloaded and shorted in their hands._

_Shepard blasted away with her rifle, more to keep them at bay rather than do any real damage, while Garrus moved up, switching to his pistol and firing as fast as he could without overheating. She took cover behind a nearby planter, and Garrus took up a position behind her, in her previous spot._

_"There's no way out, Shepard!" The blonde woman's voice. "We've got you surrounded and outnumbered!"_

_Shepard looked at Garrus, jerked her head towards the balcony where he came. _Jump? _Garrus signalled thumbs down, then across his neck. _Too high. _She grimaced. No way down but through those stairs, and there were more of them than they had counted on. Things were starting to look bad. If they rushed, and even one of them was a competent biotic, they were probably dead._

_"Come on out and I'll make it quick!"_

_"You first!" Shepard shouted, blindfiring a burst over the planter._

_Suddenly, a small singularity appeared above the stairs. The chairs, tables, and the men and women using them as cover began floating, sucked into it's shifting, warping field. Another burst of biotic energy snaked through the air, connected with the singularity, and exploded, sending bits and pieces of human and furniture flying everywhere._

_After the dust had settled, Liara and Kaidan marched up the stairs. "Clear," Kaidan called out, holstering his pistol. Shepard and Garrus stood, and Liara marched up to Shepard looking positively livid._

_"I cannot believe you left us down there!" She said, her normally quiet, whispery voice raised almost to anger. Shepard looked more than a bit startled at this sudden display of emotion from Liara._

_"They were monitoring comms," Garrus interjected. "We couldn't risk it."_

_"So instead you come up here and nearly get yourselves killed in a firefight while we wait downstairs?" Liara waved wildly at the bodies - what remained of them, anyway. "What if something happened to you? How would we even know? What about the mission-"_

_"Liara!" Shepard grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. "We're _fine."

_Liara's lower lip trembled. Her wide eyes slowly slid closed as she bowed her head. "I'm... I'm sorry-"_

_"It's okay." Shepard said quietly. "I understand. We got what we needed. We'll stick together from now on."_

_Liara just nodded. Shepard lowered one hand and gently guided Liara with the other as they made their way down the stairs of the Synthetic Insights office. Garrus nodded at Kaidan as they followed. "How'd you find us?"_

_"Had Joker scan for you. Took a while, Port Hanshan's got a lot of sensor shielding." Kaidan frowned at Liara's back. His next words were quiet. "She's... impatient. She wants to find her mother."_

_"You think she's hoping she'll listen to her?"_

_Kaidan thought for a moment, then shook his head. "She just wants this over with."_

_Garrus nodded. "Then let's get it over with."_

The Primarch paused, his eyes resting on me.

"I'm..." His expression shifted and something in his eyes looked... sheepish? "I don't know how much detail you want. About your mother, I mean."

He was concerned for my feelings. Garrus Vakarian was concerned about _me._ I smiled and blushed and tried to ignore the feeling that I was on an emotional roller coaster.

"Sir..." I took a breath. "Whatever you feel is necessary, sir."

He didn't look away, but he did look somewhere over my shoulder for a moment. He rested his hands on his knees and his mandibles twitched. He turned away and faced forward. He bowed his head for a moment, blinked a couple times, then brought it back up and shifted in his seat as he leaned his elbows on the table again.

"Okay," he said. "Let's see what I can remember."

_The four of them exited the elevator, and Anoleis' assistant was waiting for them. She turned and addressed the commander as she stepped out._

_"Commander, there were reports of noise up in the Synthetic Insights office." Her eyes danced briefly over the rest of them, then back to Shepard. "Would you know anything about that?"_

_Shepard just sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Look, I'm real tired of this shit. Just speak plainly."_

_Parasini didn't miss a beat. "Fine. But not here, Spectre. Meet me down at the bar for a drink." She turned away. "I'll be waiting."_

_Parasini was true to her word - she was waiting for them when they made it down to the bar not ten minutes later. Kaidan and Liara reluctantly took position up by the bar itself - Liara took the opportunity to order a shot to calm her nerves - and Shepard and Garrus made their way to a small table in the back which Parasini had chosen._

_She was a tall woman, Garrus thought. Taller than the commander, but smaller. More lithe. Her dress was a shade of purplish pink that went with her lipstick. Her hair was tied back in what Williams described as a 'bun,' but in a different style than the chief. Her skin was also a swarthy color, and there was something in her eyes that reminded him, of all people, of Executor Pallin._

_It didn't take long to figure out why._

_"Allow me to reintroduce myself," she said, rising to greet the commander. "Gianna Parasini, Noveria Internal Affairs."_

_Aha. "I had an inkling," Garrus said with a nod._

_Shepard half-smiled and nodded her head in his direction. "C-Sec."_

_"Ah." Parasini smiled thinly. "Helps to have some insight into a place like this, doesn't it?"_

_"It's a lot like home, Ms. Parasini." Garrus said. "A little faster and looser with the law, if that's possible."_

_"That's what happens when corporations own a planet, Mr...?"_

_"Vakarian." He offered a hand. "Garrus Vakarian."_

_She shook it. Garrus noted that she had a strong grip, and also that her sleeve bulged just a little bit. Parasini saw where his eyes wandered, and patted her right forearm where Garrus was now convinced she had either a large knife or a small holdout pistol. "Can't be too careful."_

_"So what's an internal affairs agent doing here?" Shepard asked. "Aside from the obvious."_

_"The executive board of Noveria knows about Anoleis. I've been undercover for six months waiting for this chance." She sat back down and crossed her legs. "They want him gone, and I want you to convince Qui'in to testify, so we can guarantee he's put away."_

_"Figured they'd be proud," Shepard drawled sarcastically. "Isn't self interest the rule on Noveria?"_

_"No," Parasini said, crossing her arms. "The rule is, 'don't rock the boat.' Anoleis is costing the board credits, customers, and good will. That he's also an unrepentant scumbag who thinks he's untouchable is beside the point."_

_"You don't sound very happy about that," Garrus said dryly._

_Parasini turned to him and shrugged. "It's the way the galaxy works. You want to catch white collar criminals? Gotta work for even whiter collars."_

_"I need garage authorization for this." Shepard leaned on the table, hands clasped. "I'm real tired of the run around, Parasini."_

_"You help me with my investigation, I'll give you the garage and everything in it. Favor for a favor." She sighed and ran fingers along the left side of her head. Garrus got the feeling she wasn't used to wearing her hair that way. "Look, Shepard, I don't like this any more than you do. But this is my chance to put this son of a bitch away, and I have to take it."_

_Shepard closed her eyes and frowned. She grumbled something under her breath that Garrus couldn't hear, then nodded. "Fine. Just... make sure it sticks."_

_"You give me Qui'in, that's a guarantee." Parasini extended a hand. Shepard glared at it, then shook it._

_"You owe me a stiff drink, Parasini."_

_"I owe you more than that, Shepard." She smiled, and Garrus could tell she was nine different kinds of relieved. "But I'll start with a drink."_

_Shepard stood and Garrus followed. They had to go have a talk with Lorik Qui'in, still at that same table, nursing a drink and desperately trying to look carefree._

"Your mother was a good woman." He flapped his mandibles and nodded to himself. "A good woman in a shit job, a shit place, and a shitty situation, trying to do the best that she could. I respected that."

He glanced over at me and did a mild double take. "Parasini?"

I was resting my forehead on one hand, staring down at the paper, scratching at it slowly and rhythmically with the pen. I turned and looked at him through the curtain of my hair and I hoped he couldn't see the tears.

"I ran out of ink."

His eyes were big and blue and full of sympathy, and I couldn't look at them for very long. I turned away and shut my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I thought about mom, and I wept. Little sobs racked my chest and I raised my other hand, dropping the pen and covering my mouth. I sniffed and shook and gasped for breath that wouldn't come, and I felt his three fingered hand resting on my shoulder.

He didn't say anything. He just let me cry, and for that I was grateful. I needed to get this done, get it out of my system, so I could finish what we'd begun. This whole thing had become as much about my difficulties as it had been about his, and I wouldn't stand for that. He had been through more than I could even comprehend, and here I was crying about my mommy.

I couldn't even muster up the energy for proper self-loathing. All I could do was cry.

When I was finished, years worth of built up tears finally spent, I took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "I'm so sorry, sir," I croaked, my voice distant. "This shouldn't be about me. It shouldn't."

He was silent. I uncovered my eyes and wiped them on my sleeve. Then...

"Garrus."

My eyes widened and I turned toward him. His mandibles were tight against his jaw, his eyes solemn.

"What?" I said stupidly.

He flared his mandibles out briefly, breathing out a laugh as he looked down at the floor and then back up at me. "It's Garrus," he said, flanging voice quiet and smooth.

I almost wanted to start crying again, but for his sake, I held it in check. I felt my mouth crinkle up into a tight smile, and I choked out a little laugh of my own. "I... don't know if I can do that, sir."

He shifted in his seat and graced me with a crooked turian smile, and I could see a hint of that old easy charm that people had talked about in the lean of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. "Try."

I laughed again, a little desperately, muscles around my stomach clenching. "Only if you call me Alisa," I said for lack of anything else.

He extended his other hand. Weakly, I raised my own and shook it gently. I looked up into his eyes and couldn't tell if I was just seeing my own blinked back tears or if he was getting a little misty as well, but he was still smiling.

"Okay, Alisa."


	17. Personal Affairs

"We good?" He asked, subtonals reverberating pleasantly. I nodded, and he let his hand drift from my shoulder, dull talons lightly scraping along my upper arm.

"Okay," he said quietly. He nodded at the paper and turned away. I picked up my pen again. "Let's finish this."

_It hadn't taken a lot to get Qui'in to roll over - Garrus had needled him about his duty, civic responsibility and the greater good, weak points for any blue-blooded turian. Shepard had implied that the Port would view him as a hero for removing Anoleis, and when that didn't work, implied that she would be very irritated if he didn't._

_They were heading down with Parasini now. Shepard wanted to get this over with as soon as possible and get on with the mission, though Garrus also suspected she wanted to see Anoleis' face when he was arrested. Parasini said something about wishing she could change into something more combat appropriate - "I hate skirts." - and then marched straight into Anoleis' office and dragged him out in cuffs. Anoleis was far beyond furious._

_"Shepard! I demand you arrest this bitch immediately!"_

_Shepard smiled devilishly. Parasini read him his rights, then shoved him out the door. Matsuo, head of Port security, was waiting to collect him outside with her more trustworthy men._

_As the former administrator was being dragged away, mouthing off about how they would never work in this sector again, Parasini sighed and turned to Shepard, who narrowed her eyes. "You don't seem happy."_

_"I'm ecstatic," Parasini deadpanned. "But right now it feels like the end of a very, very long day. I still owe you that drink."_

_"I'll collect another time," she replied curtly. "Garage access."_

_"Of course." Parasini had barely authorized their passage using her omni-tool before Shepard was moving. "See you around the galaxy, Shepard."_

_She waved over her shoulder, not turning back. They'd wasted too much time already, Garrus knew, but he lingered a moment._

_"Parasini," he said, trying to keep his subharmonics polite, even if she couldn't hear them. "You want some advice?"_

_She looked at him oddly. "Why not? Shoot."_

_"You're good police. But this-" He gestured to the port at large. "-is not a place for that. I'd find somewhere else before it turns you."_

_"Speaking from experience?" She asked, quirking a brow._

_"Back on the Citadel, no one worked the beat on Zakera Ward for long without having to compromise." He waved his hand vaguely around his waist, unsure and a little awkward. "I could be wrong, but... you don't seem the type that would."_

_She chewed on that thought for a moment. "Probably not." Parasini stuck out her hand. Garrus shook it. "Thanks, Vakarian. Take it under advisement."_

_"Any time." He turned away without another word and followed Shepard, who had met Liara and Kaidan halfway and was almost out of sight._

"And that was Noveria."

I looked up from my paper and blinked. "But... the Matriarch-"

"I wasn't there for that." The Primarch - _just Garrus now, Alisa -_ reached up and scratched at his facial markings along the side of his face. "We got to the garage and found our Mako already parked - the cargo crews had apparently gotten the order and delivered it there before we had even convinced Qui'in - and Shepard wanted me to stay behind."

_"Thinking we'll need some biotics on this one, Garrus."_

_"Understood, Commander." He was a bit frustrated all the same. He covered it with humor. "Kaidan knows his way around tech, he can keep that damn thing running while you do whatever it is you do behind the wheel."_

_The corner of her mouth ticked upward. "What can I say? We have a connection. I move, it moves."_

_"If you moved like you drove, I'd be calling Chakwas and staging an intervention."_

_She didn't laugh, It wasn't the time. But he saw it in her eyes, and that was enough for him. She turned and wagged a finger. "You haven't seen me dance."_

_Shepard headed into the Mako, sidled past Liara who was already seated in the gunner's position. Not her usual spot, but clearly where she needed to be right now. Kaidan ran his omni-tool over the outer armor, making his final system checks. Garrus caught his eye and nodded. If there was anyone he trusted besides himself to have the commander's back, it was Alenko. Kaidan nodded back, clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, boarded and closed the rear hatch. Garrus felt the surge of bitter cold air behind him as the garage opened, heard the Mako rev and speed out of the garage towards the Peak 15 research station, and figured he'd grab a drink at the bar before he headed back to the ship._

_Maybe he'd get one for Ash, too. They'd both need it._

"The debriefing after the ground team returned was... awkward." He rubbed the spur on his elbow. "There were rachni involved. We'll talk about that later. And Liara's mother had indeed been there. Died in a firefight with the ground team. Only on the brink of death did we learn she'd been under some kind of control. Said it was the ship, Sovereign, affecting her mind, rather than Saren. We didn't know what to make of that. Not yet."

He shifted in his seat and brought his foot up on his other knee. He had strange, digitigrade feet. Not for the first time, I realized I had almost forgotten he was an alien.

His voice took on a strangely melodic quality as he spoke. "Shepard and Liara... they were close after that. It had taken her a long time to get that way, you know. Not just because of her mother working with Saren. Shepard... she resented Liara's necessity aboard the ship. _Her_ ship. She didn't choose her like she had the others, she hadn't proven herself or her committment. And she _really_ didn't like that Liara had to dive into her mind."

That caught me be surprise. "Huh? Like... what, a mind meld?"

The Primarch - _Garrus, Alisa, come on_ - smiled a little and shook his head. "Something like that, I guess. I don't know much about asari telepathy or empathy or... whatever it was. She went inside her mind and helped her interpret the visions from the beacon somehow. Usually during debriefings, trying to figure out what Saren could be after."

"And Shepard didn't like that?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Absolutely not." His mandibles fluttered - that was a new one. "She didn't like the idea of anyone getting inside her head with her, but she knew it was necessary. That was the big obstacle between their friendship for a long time. After Noveria..."

He rolled his shoulders, not quite a shrug. "Shepard's parents were military. Her father was a marine and her mother was an officer, captain of the _SSV Orziba_ at the time_._ She was raised in the navy, lived on ships her whole life. She knew all the risks and had grown up with them from childhood."

Garrus - _that's better -_ fiddled with his fingers, pads running along blunted talons. He spoke plainly and simply. "Her father died. And she still worried about her mother. Not often, but she did. She had an idea of what Liara was feeling. She'd felt that level of loss herself, but she'd also been prepped since birth to be ready for it. So Shepard tried her best to console her. Felt it was the least she could do."

After a long moment of silence, I gathered up the courage to ask, "How did her father die?"

Garrus didn't blink. He stopped fiddling with his fingers and his eyes drifted across the room. "It never came up. And I never asked."

I felt my jaw tighten. If I hadn't already had my cry for the year, I might be tempted to now. As it is, I just swallowed and waited for him to continue.

"Despite everything," he said, pushing through the thickness in his own throat, "we still didn't have any real idea of where Saren was or what his plans were. We were left to our own devices once again, and Shepard decided to use the time to help her crew deal with personal affairs. First, she helped Tali get some geth data she could take back to the flotilla and complete her pilgrimage..."

_Tali practically sprinted into engineering when she left the Mako, so Garrus assumed that the mission was a success. He had been waiting for them, torch and spanner in hand to repair what would obviously be tremendous damage to the tank. He hadn't forgotten what happened last time they had tangled with geth in the Mako._

_Shepard levered herself out of Mako, almost gingerly. Garrus was all ready to say something particularly cutting about her piloting skills when he noticed she was limping._

_"What happened?" He asked, throat suddenly a bit too dry._

_"Bad fall," Shepard said, voice clipped. "I can make it to the medbay."_

_"You sure?" He said, quickly stepping aside to give her room. Her eyes were a bit glazed (_medigel dulling the pain,_ he thought), and her skin was paler than it had been. She slipped just a bit, and Kaidan was at her side in an instant._

_"I've got you," he said. Shepard threw him a look and almost sneered something dismissive, but she looked down at her foot and reconsidered. She threw her arm around Kaidan's neck and he supported her as they walked to the elevator._

_Garrus was left alone, spanner and plasma torch in hand, with an empty, scorched, beat up tank. He tried valiantly to stay on task, but after about twenty minutes, he pulled himself out from under it and decided to hell with it, he'd fix the damn thing later and went to check on Shepard. Tali was already there, apologizing profusely and Kaidan had lingered, not yet out of his armor. Chakwas was rushing about as professionally as ever, working on the commander's ankle, which was revealed to be quite clearly broken._

_"Shepard, I'm sorry-"_

_"Shut up, Tali," she interrupted, one hand out and cutting the air in front of her. "It was nothing."_

_"But-"_

_"But nothing." She crossed her arms, eyes a bit unfocused, probably more from the painkillers she'd have received upon entering the medbay than the lingering effects of the medigel. "You'd rather we hadn't gone at all? Just because I sprained my ankle?"_

_"This is hardly a sprain, commander," Chakwas interjected clinically._

_"Whatever," she said, throwing up a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I'll be fine. I'm fine right now. Be happy, already."_

_Tali's face was impossible to read, but Garrus heard her sigh, pitching through her helmet and coming out modulated. "Thank you, Shepard. For everything."_

_Shepard just crossed her arms again and shrugged. "You're crew," she said, and that was that._

_Garrus cleared his throat and stepped fully into the medbay. "So, let me guess," he said, stepping back into the familiar rhythm of their back and forth now that he knew she was okay. "You smash too hard on the accelerator?"_

_Shepard looked up, seeing him for the first time, and gave him an easy smile. "Showing off my dance moves."_

_He crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto one hip. "Now this I _have_ to hear."_

_Shepard's grin quickly became a grimace, and she looked down at Chakwas applying the weave. "Stupid. Got flanked, geth trooper behind me, too far from cover. I spun and ducked and fired, something I've done a million times before. Except this time I just... kept going."_

_"Took out the geth, though," Kaidan piped up, leaning against the foot of the bed opposite hers. "At least there's that."_

_Tali chuckled inside her helmet. "That was some very... colorful language afterward, commander. My translator didn't pick up all of it."_

_"Just as well," Kaidan said. "I'm a marine, and _I _was blushing."_

_Shepard did her best to suppress a smile and closed her eyes. "Don't you people have duties to attend to?"_

_"The Mako's not going anywhere, commander," Garrus said pointedly. "You've seen to that."_

_Shepard threw her hands out to her sides and her voice was full of suppressed laughter. "I'm not that bad a driver!"_

_Everyone in the room promptly looked at their hands, their feet, or their armor. Garrus coughed._

_"Alright, that's it, everyone get out. You're bothering the doctor."_

_"Oh it's fine if you want to have visitors, commander-"_

_"Out!"_

"A couple days later, she helped Wrex recover some old clan armor of his. Never figured him for sentimental, but, well." Garrus sniffed, mouth parts twitching in an odd way. "Not sure how I got roped into that one. Probably wanted to bridge the gap between the turian and the krogan. Team unity and all that." He shook his head. "All I really remember, though, is the ride there."

_"Shepard, what is this noise?"_

_Garrus had to shout to make himself heard over the din of the warbling, electric sounds coming out of the system Shepard had installed herself, without his knowledge. How she had managed that was itself a mystery, since Garrus was around the Mako nearly his entire shift. Presumably she had skipped a meal or stayed up late the night before, because when they had boarded the Mako before the drop, Garrus had instantly noticed the ugly install she had performed underneath the console in the cockpit. He'd almost said something, but decided he'd wait until _after_ the mission to insult his commanding officer's engineering skills._

_And then she had turned it on, just before flooring the accelerator on the now much faster Mako. They were pushing 180 KPH, at least, and even small rocks and terrain differences made the tank's wheels leave the ground, resulting in a brief, terrifying moment of weightlessness. His stomach was doing very poorly._

_Shepard, however, looked liked she was having the time of her life._

_"It's called _music_, Garrus!" She shouted, teeth bared and eyes aflame._

_"You call _this_ music?" He shouted back, just before they hit another pothole. If he hadn't had the foresight to strap tightly into his safety restraints, his head would have flown up to meet the roof of the tank, and he'd probably be out cold._

_Shepard didn't respond, just kept flooring it. The so-called music had lyrics, but Garrus could be damned if he could hear them. He glanced back at Wrex, in the gunner's seat. He was grinning almost as wide as Shepard._

_He almost hoped there _would_ be a thresher maw somewhere in this desert. Shepard would _have _to slow down to engage it. Wouldn't she?_

_He felt his talons grip the handrail just above his head. The tank shook again as it caught air and landed. For once, he wondered, maybe he should have elected to stay aboard the Normandy._

"Do you remember the song?"

He turned and looked at me, startled. I gave him an anxious look and shrugged. "I'm curious what her taste in music was like."

He shook his head and scratched at his fringe, running his fingers along the side of it. "I don't know human music, I certainly don't remember-" He perked up. "I _do_ remember her saying just one word when I asked, later. What was it? 'Creedance?'" He shrugged. "Something like that."

I wrote it down. The odds were against it, but maybe I could track it down later. He'd probably get a kick out of hearing it again.

When I looked back, he looked drawn. Stricken. I imagined this was the end of the fun part.

Garrus Vakarian sighed, a long and low rumbling in his chest.

"And then we got the call." His eyes hardened. "Virmire."


	18. Face Off

I saw his mandibles tighten against his face and heard him swallow.

"I'm going to need another drink."

He pushed himself up from his chair and strode over to the bar. He shifted his weight constantly as he mixed a drink and I checked to make sure my new pen still had enough ink. This was where things would begin to get hard for him. Everything up until now was pleasant enough, or at least not tragic. This would be the turn. I had to keep him talking, and try to keep my own mouth shut as much as possible. _Keep your feet firmly out of your mouth, Alisa. Everything's riding on the next few minutes._

He turned and came back with two drinks. One blue, one a cloudy orange. He set the orange one down by my hand. When I looked a bit reluctant, he smiled ever so slightly. "No ryncol. Promise."

Garrus plopped back down in his chair, suddenly looking bone weary. He took a long swig of his drink, shook his head hard as he swallowed, and practically slammed the glass onto the table. He rasped out a gravelly snarl, subtonals pitching up and then down. "Good stuff," he said, settling back in his chair.

I decided to try mine later.

"The time before Virmire was some of the worst aboard that ship."

_Garrus had never liked the briefing room. The whole thing felt pointless. The chairs were uncomfortable, the seating arrangement was poor. There wasn't even a table. How did you have a briefing room without a table?_

_He took his usual seat on the right. Tali sat next to him, as did Wrex. On the opposite side, Liara and Kaidan took their seats, with Ashley in the middle. Shepard didn't sit. She paced in the center of the circular room, arms crossed._

_"This is it," she said quietly, before her voice quickly fell into the usual calm, authoritative tone. "We know where he is."_

_Liara gasped. Tali fidgeted in her seat. Wrex growled, barely audible. Kaidan and Ashley straightened. Garrus felt his hands flex involuntarily. They all knew who she was talking about._

_"Council just sent word," she continued, pacing slowly. "Salarian Special Tasks Group sent a signal. Garbled and distorted. They could only make out four words - 'Saren found, request assistance.' That's us."_

_"Where?" Wrex growled. Shepard turned to face him, the first time she'd met anyone's eyes since they had entered the briefing room to find her pacing back and forth._

_"Some out of the way garden world called Virmire. Odds are he's got a real heavy operation there."_

_"'Odds are?'" Ashley spoke up. "We flying blind on this one, skipper?"_

_Shepard turned toward Ash and nodded. "All we've got is the location. Once we get in orbit, we'll have an idea of what we're up against. We'll have a better one once we rendezvous with the STG. But I've got a feeling it's big."_

_"How big?" Kaidan ventured. Shepard grimaced._

_"Big enough to scare an entire salarian STG unit into calling for backup." She shook her head. "Those boys don't scare easy."_

_"You kidding?" Wrex snorted. "Nutless pyjaks probably saw a geth and started weeping."_

_Shepard turned back and there was a hard look in her eye. "How many salarians did it take to deliver the genophage, Wrex? A few dozen, maybe more? Alone on Tuchanka?"_

_They locked eyes, and for a moment Garrus thought Shepard might have crossed a line, but Wrex just crossed his arms and nodded slowly. Once again, Garrus was surprised at him._

_Shepard turned away and resumed her pacing. "I don't like it. I don't like going into a situation without knowing exactly what we're getting ourselves into, but we don't have a choice. This is the best lead we've ever had, and we have to act now. And make no mistake, once we drop into that system we are moving as fast as we can, regardless of our stealth drive. We're not letting him slip away."_

_Shepard leaned against one of the holo-terminals on the right side of the briefing room. "Joker's already laid in a course. We'll be there in six hours. Make whatever preparations you feel necessary. Dismissed."_

_Slowly, they all stood to leave. Ashley first, then Wrex and Garrus. Tali followed after him. Before he left, Garrus glanced back and saw Shepard still leaning against the terminal, and Kaidan still seated, elbows on his knees and fingers laced together in front of his mouth._

"For the next six hours, everyone on that ship was doing _something._ Whether it was cleaning guns, maintaining the Mako, checking and rechecking omni-tool hardlinks, triple checking their armor's seals, or tinkering with anything and everything in engineering."

He took another drink, smaller this time. His mandibles fluttered and he rasped out a breath as he set down the glass.

"Everyone thought that this was it." Garrus looked down at his hand and stared at it, flexing his fingers. "It had that air about it, anyway. An air of finality."

He set his forearm down on the table and stared off into space.

"We thought we were prepared." Garrus shook his head, very slowly. "We weren't."

_"A cure?" Shepard tried to keep the shock from her voice, but Garrus heard it anyway. "You're certain?"_

_"As certain as we can be," the STG captain, Kirrahe, replied. "We don't know if it's been weaponized yet, or even completed. But if he's not there yet, he's close."_

_"This explains all those krogan mercs signing up with Saren." Kaidan rested his hands on his hips. "This is bad."_

_"I don't think so."_

_Wrex stomped up to the group. Shepard screwed her eyes shut, wincing, then opened them again. "Wrex-"_

_"An uncontrolled krogan population cannot be allowed," Kirrahe interrupted. "We can't make the same mistake twice."_

_Wrex turned to him, took two large steps forward, and sounded about as passionate as Garrus had ever heard him when he shouted, "We are not a mistake!" Then he turned, slowly, letting his fierce gaze linger on Kirrahe, before stalking off to the other end of the makeshift STG camp._

_"Is he going to be a problem?" Kirrahe asked, glancing back at Shepard. "We've got enough angry krogan to deal with."_

_Shepard stared at Wrex's receding back. There was something in her expression that Garrus couldn't place. "I'll talk to him."_

_Kirrahe nodded and headed back for the command tent. Tali and Liara were already inside. Kaidan, Ashley, Shepard and Garrus stood around in a loose group. Garrus glanced off shore. The Normandy hovered, trapped by the remaining anti-air towers._

_"Commander," Garrus said, breaking the silence, "this is bad, isn't it."_

_"Very."_

_"I've got your back, commander," Ashley said. "He tries anything-"_

_"No." Shepard still stared off at Wrex. He had found a spot on the opposite end of the camp, and had drawn his shotgun. He fired off two rounds into the sea, one handed. The shots echoed throughout the canyon where the STG had set up a perimeter._

_Shepard frowned. Her eyes hardened. "Not unless I give the order."_

_She stalked off towards Wrex. Garrus looked to Kaidan._

_"You really think she can talk him down?"_

_He stared after her. Garrus felt the faint pins and needles sensation of Kaidan's biotic field tensing and untensing._

_"If anyone can..." The lieutenant let the thought hang unfinished in the air._

_Garrus glanced at Ashley, who had repositioned herself closer to the surf - _to get a better shot at Wrex_, Garrus noted. She didn't have her rifle in her hands, but he knew she was faster than him at the draw. Still, he checked the shoulder joint of his armor, rolling it around. He'd be ready if things went sour._

_They were all transfixed as Shepard eventually came up alongside the tall krogan. Wrex lowered his gun, turned towards her. He said something, she said something back. It was drowned out by the waves and the distant, barely audible hum of the Normandy's engines. Wrex advanced on Shepard and got within inches, pointing his fingers at Shepard or at himself, Garrus couldn't tell. Ash tensed and Garrus saw her arm jerk, bent at the elbow, halfway to her shoulder. Wrex backed off, Ashley slowly lowered her arm, and then, suddenly, Wrex drew his weapon. Shepard responded by drawing hers. Ashley had her rifle out and sighted before Garrus even had his fingers on the stock. Kaidan stepped forward and grabbed Ashley's shoulder._

_"Steady, chief," he said calmly. "Let it play out."_

_Ash didn't move. Garrus had his hand on the butt of his rifle, waiting. Shepard slowly lowered her weapon. Wrex didn't. Shepard was saying something._

_"Ell tee..." Ashley murmured._

_"Hold steady."_

_After what seemed like an eternity, Wrex spoke again. After he was finished, he paused, then holstered his gun._

_Ash lowered her rifle. Kaidan took a deep breath. Garrus' mandibles fluttered. Shepard had talked down a krogan battlemaster._

_She turned and walked back towards the command tent. They hadn't even begun the assault, and already one crisis had reared it's head, and been averted. Now all that was left was to sneak into a heavily fortified enemy position, kill one of the best special ops agents in the entire galaxy, and then blow it all to hell._

_It seemed easy in comparison to what he'd just seen._

Garrus shook his head and reached for his drink.

"It wasn't."


	19. To Ash

Garrus downed the last of his drink, shook his head roughly, turned the glass upside down and pushed it into the middle of the table.

"That's Saren's base," he said. He grabbed a couple pizza crusts out of the box and placed them on either side of the glass. "This is the perimeter. Kirrahe would divide his men into three teams. They'd hit the front of the facility," he drew his finger up the front, towards the glass. "Ash would go with them, leading the third team. Kaidan would drop in with the STG tech unit here," he tapped the leftmost pizza crust. "They'd plant the bomb as near to the center of the breeding facility as they could get, after we dropped their air defenses. Ash would flank right with the remainder of the STG unit," he drew around the right, hitting the rightmost pizza crust. "They'd hold the line here, draw fire and generally raise hell. Tali would stay aboard, do a final check on the bomb, and Liara would provide barrier support for the bomb squad. Shepard, Wrex and I would circle around and hit the back," he slid his finger around the crude arrangement. "We'd break in with minimal resistence while the geth were occupied, shut down the anti-air and any security, and try and corner Saren inside. We'd support Kaidan, Kirrahe, and Ash as circumstances dictated, then rendezvous at the bomb drop for extraction once it was armed."

He leaned back and the chair squeaked. "It wasn't much of a plan. But we didn't have much to work with."

While my pen skittered across the paper, his mandibles flexed back and forth. I interpreted this as a pensive expression.

"Kirrahe gave a speech to his men, before we moved out. Something about how salarians weren't just agents of espionage, that they had a history of soldiering that went back centuries. 'Holding the line.' He was no Shepard, but it wasn't bad." Garrus chuckled quietly. "Not sure his men really needed it, STG being what they are, but it certainly helped."

"We were prepping quick, getting ready to move out in a matter of minutes, and-" His voice hitched, just slightly. I probably wouldn't have caught it if I hadn't been listening to him talk for hours. He had to swallow again.

"Ash came over."

_"Hey, Commander?"_

_Shepard turned away from the workbench inside the tent. She'd been rechecking her rifle's cooling mechanism. Garrus was adjusting the trigger pull on his rifle, sitting on a crate next to the bench. He'd gotten the idea into his head after seeing Wrex doing the same to his shotgun._

_"What is it, Chief?" Shepard had been pulling rank all day. Down in the field, in a combat situation, was just about the only time she did so. Hell, it was just about the only time any of them did anymore._

_"Just wanted to say..." Ash would have sighed, but she stifled it, maintaining a military bearing. "Good luck, Commander."_

_Shepard almost let it drop - they didn't have a ton of time - but she didn't. She turned fully away from the bench and crossed her arms, armored gauntlets clacking against her chest piece. "Say what you were gonna say, Ash."_

_"It's nothing, it's... just gonna be weird, being under someone else's command. I've gotten used to serving with you. All of you," she said, glancing pointedly at Garrus. He stood, shouldering his rifle._

_"Feeling's mutual, Chief," Garrus said earnestly. Ash grinned at him. He grinned back. There was a brief moment of clarity in which he realized just how surprised he was that they had become as close as they had._

_Not as surprised as he was about to be._

_"Williams." Wrex stomped into the tent, shotgun held easy in his hands. "Been looking for you."_

_Everyone tensed, no one more than Ash. "What for?" She asked, tone flat._

_"May have had a bit of tunnel vision earlier," Wrex said idly, sidling past everyone staring at him and picking up a block of tungsten from the workbench. "But I still saw you with that rifle."_

_He turned back to Ash, loaded the block into his shotgun, cocked it. "Good instincts. Quick on the draw. You'd have dropped me without hesitation, right?"_

_No one said anything. Ashley grit her teeth, and nodded._

_Wrex almost - _almost - _smiled. "Good." He trundled slowly towards the door, slapping her shoulder with the back of his hand as he passed. "Careful out there, kid. Run into any krogan, aim below the eyes. No armor on the hollow of the throat."_

_He left as casually as he'd came. Everyone just stood there._

_"Good to know," Garrus mumbled, and Shepard's relieved expression broke into a laugh. Ash just shook her head, exhaling softly._

_"I should go," she said. She snapped a salute. "Shepard."_

_For once, Shepard just returned the gesture. "Williams."_

_She left the tent, and as before, Garrus had a moment of clarity. She hadn't said anything, but Williams was convinced this was something they weren't all going to walk away from._

Garrus almost reached for his empty glass, but thought better of it. Instead he clasped his hands together tightly, corded muscle seemingly untouched by age.

"It almost worked." His flanging voice took a low, hard edge. "We punched through their defenses, shut down some security, provided indirect support to Kirrahe's teams. They shut down the air defenses, occupied the geth as we shot our way through the breeding labs. Turns out the cure wasn't finished yet. In the meantime, all they were doing was cloning krogan. Ugly business. Wrex did _not_ approve."

He blinked, and his eyes gleamed. "Then we found the second beacon."

_Shepard slowly strode up to the spire, softly glowing green, numerous screens and holograms surrounding it. Every tube and piece of equipment seemed to funnel into this room, towards the beacon. Garrus thought there might be more sensor and scanning equipment in this room, directed at one object, than in the whole of the Attican Traverse._

_"You sure about this, Commander?" Garrus had to ask._

_Shepard's hands reached out for what must be the terminal, projecting from the beacon itself. He almost thought her hands were shaking, but that was impossible. "No."_

_Suddenly the terminal disappeared, and she rose into the air. He'd heard Ash and Kaidan describe what had happened to her when she was touched by the last beacon, but Garrus still felt his stomach lurch at the sight. Wrex tensed and glanced around. _Prey instincts,_ Garrus thought._ Feels like we're being watched.

_Shepard dropped suddenly, collapsing against the grated floor. Just as suddenly, a terminal above them flared to life, projecting a red-hued image of Saren's ship, looming over them._

**"YOU ARE NOT SAREN."**

_"Some kind of VI?" Garrus ventured quietly as Shepard returned to her feet and stepped back._

**"RUDIMENTARY CREATURES OF BLOOD AND FLESH."**_It's voice was impossibly deep, modulating beyond registers even turians could hear. It seemed to come from everywhere around them, or from inside his head. Garrus couldn't tell. _**"YOU TOUCH MY MIND, FUMBLING IN IGNORANCE. INCAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING."**

_"Don't think so, Garrus," Wrex said, as wry as ever, even as he scowled and flexed his hands around his shotgun._

**"THERE IS A REALM OF EXISTENCE SO FAR BEYOND YOUR OWN, YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE IT. I AM BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION. I... AM SOVEREIGN."**

_"Sovereign isn't a Reaper ship," Shepard said, backing alongside her squad. "It _is_ a Reaper."_

**"REAPER," **_Sovereign continued, voice containing no inflection, yet still carrying an utterly disdainful authority. _"**A LABEL CREATED BY THE PROTHEANS TO GIVE VOICE TO THEIR DESTRUCTION. IN THE END, WHAT THEY CHOSE TO CALL US IS IRRELEVANT. WE SIMPLY... ARE."**

_"The protheans went extinct fifty thousand years ago..." Garrus mumbled, staring up at the transparent vision of Sovereign._

**"ORGANIC LIFE IS NOTHING BUT A GENETIC MUTATION - AN ACCIDENT. YOUR LIVES ARE MEASURED IN YEARS AND DECADES, YOU WITHER AND DIE. WE ARE ETERNAL. THE PINNACLE OF EVOLUTION AND EXISTENCE. BEFORE US, YOU ARE NOTHING. YOUR EXTINCTION IS INEVITABLE. WE... ARE THE END OF EVERYTHING."**

_"We're not alone," Shepard said, somehow finding her voice and facing down the Reaper with hard eyes and harder voice, just as she'd faced Wrex. "There's an entire galaxy ready to face you."_

**"CONFIDENCE BORN OF IGNORANCE. THE CYCLE CANNOT BE BROKEN. THE PATTERN HAS REPEATED ITSELF MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN FATHOM. ORGANIC CIVILIZATIONS RISE, EVOLVE, ADVANCE, AND AT THE APEX OF THEIR GLORY, THEY ARE EXTINGUISHED. THE PROTHEANS WERE NOT THE FIRST. THEY DID NOT CREATE THE CITADEL. THEY DID NOT FORGE THE MASS RELAYS. THEY MERELY FOUND THEM. THE LEGACY OF MY KIND."**

_There were one too many revelations happening at once for Garrus to process them all adequately. Shepard soldiered on. "Why?"_

**"YOUR CIVILIZATION IS BASED ON THE TECHNOLOGY OF THE MASS RELAYS. OUR TECHNOLOGY. BY USING IT, YOUR SOCIETY DEVELOPS ALONG THE PATHS WE DESIRE. WE IMPOSE ORDER ON THE CHAOS OF ORGANIC EVOLUTION. YOU EXIST BECAUSE WE ALLOW IT. AND YOU WILL END, BECAUSE WE DEMAND IT."**

_"You didn't answer my question." Garrus could barely even find his voice, Wrex was frozen in impotent rage, and Shepard was practically arguing with the thing._

**"MY KIND TRANSCENDS YOUR VERY UNDERSTANDING. WE ARE EACH A NATION, INDEPENDENT, FREE OF ALL WEAKNESS. YOU CANNOT GRASP THE NATURE OF OUR EXISTENCE. YOU BARELY COMPREHEND YOUR OWN."**

_"You're a machine," Shepard shot back. "Machines can be broken."_

_Sovereign went on, uncaring. _**"WE HAVE NO END. WE HAVE NO BEGINNING. WE ARE INFINITE. MILLIONS OF YEARS AFTER YOUR CIVILIZATION HAS BEEN ERADICATED AND FORGOTTEN, WE WILL ENDURE. THE TIME OF OUR RETURN IS COMING. OUR NUMBERS WILL DARKEN THE SKY OF EVERY WORLD. YOU HAVE NO HOPE."**

_The fire was alight in Shepard's eyes again. "There's always hope."_

**"YOUR WORDS ARE AS EMPTY AS YOUR FUTURE." **_Sovereign's voice grew deeper with every word. A pain grew in Garrus' forehead, flaring outward. The ground began to tremble, or he might have just been imagining it._** "I AM THE VANGUARD OF YOUR DESTRUCTION. THIS EXCHANGE IS OVER."**

_The terminal went offline, and in a shower of sparks and debris, every piece of equipment in the room simultaneously overloaded. In the aftermath, Shepard helped Garrus to his feet, and Wrex pushed himself off the floor. Joker's voice cut into their comms suddenly._

_"Commander, I don't know what you did, but Saren's ship just showed up on long range scanners. It's coming hard and fast, I'd recommend we get the hell out of dodge."_

_"Roger that." Shepard drew her rifle and charged for the door. "What's the ETA on the bomb?"_

_"Two more minutes and we're in the drop position."_

_"Meet you there," Shepard barked, and closed the comm. "Wrex, Garrus, doubletime!"_

Garrus took a breath and stood. He started pacing around the table.

"We cleared out the drop zone, Kaidan and Tali brought down the bomb covered by the salarian techs. It would take a few minutes to arm. We were planning on staying to cover them but..." He rested his hands on his hips and I heard his bare feet clicking on the floor, talons drawn down. "Ash couldn't make it. Her team was pinned down. Shepard made the call to take her squad and reinforce."

He stopped. His broad back was to me. I saw his shoulders tense from the way his cowl rose and fell. I stared at his fringe. He shook his head.

"Halfway there, we saw a geth dropship headed in the opposite direction."

_"Alenko, you've got incoming!" Shepard shouted, keying her comm. "Geth dropship!"_

_"Copy, we see it." Garrus heard Alenko's intake of breath, staticy through the comm. "Get down!"_

_The deafening white noise of heavy weapons fire hit their comms and Shepard stopped in her tracks. "Alenko!" She yelled, two fingers to her ear. "Kaidan, respond!"_

_"They've got an armature!" Kaidan was shouting in between bursts of fire and half-heard shouting from Normandy marines and salarian STG troopers. "LIara's barriers are down! Taking heavy casualties! I'm arming the bomb now!"_

_"What the hell are you doing, Alenko?" Shepard stormed off to the side, catching one hand on a railing. The sea roiled below her._

_"Making sure this bomb goes off, Commander." Kaidan's preternatural calm still wouldn't fray, even in the face of death. "No matter what."_

_Shepard opened her mouth to bark another order, but it caught in her throat, and she closed it. "It's done," Kaidan barked. "Now go get Williams!"_

_"Like hell!" Ash's voice cut in. "The bomb is the objective, get to Alenko! We can hold them off!"_

_Shepard lowered her hand from her ear and rested it on the railing. Wrex turned away, making sure nothing was coming. Garrus glanced away, weapon ready, but couldn't help but keep his eyes on Shepard._

_Her eyes flit back and forth, almost imperceptibly. Her mind was searching desperately for an alternative, a third option, some way that no one got left behind. Her expression darkened. She raised her fingers to her ear._

_"Kaidan, protect that bomb." She paused, and a cold fury ghosted across her face. "I'm on my way."_

_"Commander-"_

_"Shut the hell up, ell tee!" Ashley shouted into her comm. "It's the right choice and you know it!"_

_Kaidan didn't respond. Shepard let her gaze drift back towards where they had been heading._

_"Ash."_

_"No regrets, skipper." Ashley's voice was hard and forceful, but it wasn't angry. "None."_

_Shepard froze, just for an instant. Then she dropped her hand and went for her gun. "Let's go!" She shouted, breaking into a run. Wrex and Garrus followed._

Garrus bowed his head. I didn't say a word. I barely even wanted to move.

"By the time we got there, most of the team was dead. Kaidan, Tali, and Liara were the only ones still uninjured. We managed to take out the armature."

His head raised. "That's when Saren showed up."

_Shepard ran, firing wildly behind her, as Garrus fired his rifle. Saren's shields held strong, amplified by his biotics. He threw shockwaves at the ground, and Shepard narrowly managed to dive behind cover. Garrus and Wrex moved back to cover Alenko, gutshot and leaning behind the bomb, and Tali, who was trying desperately to seal off a portion of her suit that had been punctured. Liara was unconscious, bleeding from her nose. She'd kept that barrier up as long as she could._

_"This has been an interesting diversion, Shepard," Saren called out, "My geth were utterly convinced the salarians were the true threat. Of course it's all for nothing. I can't let you disrupt what I'm accomplishing here. You can't possibly understand what's at stake."_

_"The Reapers want to wipe out all sentient life, what else is there to understand?" Shepard shouted back, then signalled to Garrus - _circle around, on my mark.

_Garrus signalled _copy_, then began to move from cover to cover, making his way carefully forward, sniper rifle at the ready._

_"You've seen the visions, Shepard, you of all people should understand!" Shepard signalled to Wrex - _take center, on my mark._ Wrex began to move, less subtly, but enough. "They cannot be stopped! Do not mire yourself in pointless revolt, do not sacrifice everything for petty freedoms. The protheans fought, and they were extinguished. What if they had bowed before the invaders? Is submission not preferable to extinction?"_

_"Do you really believe the Reapers will let us live?" Shepard signalled to Tali - _stay down, cover._ She nodded - she was in no condition to do much._

_"Now you see why I didn't take this to the Council! We are driven by emotion, Shepard, we would have fought even though we knew we would not win! But if we work with them-"_

_"Sovereign is influencing you!" Shepard cut him off, trying to keep him focused on her, let Garrus and Wrex get in position. "It's controlling your mind!"_

_"No!" Saren's biotics flared. Garrus moved to another piece of cover. "I joined with it willingly, knowing the dangers! I have studied the effects of indoctrination, Shepard, the more control it exerts, the less capable the subject becomes. That is my saving grace. Sovereign _needs_ me to find the Conduit, my mind is still my own. For now. The transformation from ally to servant can be subtle, but I will _not_ let it happen."_

_"Tell me why Sovereign needs the Conduit, tell me what it is! Maybe we can find a way to stop it!" Shepard signalled - _hold fire.

_"The Conduit is the key to Sovereign's plan, and he needs me to find it. Once he has it, I have been... promised a reprieve." Wrex moved as close as he dared, within ten meters of Saren. He tensed, glanced at Shepard. She shook her head. "It is the only chance any of us have."_

_"We don't have to submit. We can beat them!"_

_"I no longer believe that, Shepard. It thinks like a machine. We fight, we are exterminated. Prove our worth to it, and we are a resource that must be maintained." Saren's voice was regretful, almost solemn. "The visions cannot be denied. The Reapers are too powerful. Submission is the only way, there is no other logical conclusion._

_"I am not doing this for myself, don't you see? Sovereign will succeeed, it is inevitable! My way is the only way any of us will survive. I am forging an alliance between us and the Reapers, and in doing so, I will save more lives than have _ever_ existed! But you would doom our entire galaxy to complete annihilation. And for that," he said, biotics flaring. "You must die."_

_Shepard signalled. Garrus, Wrex, and Shepard rose as one, weapons booming._

"It might have been over then and there," he said, finally returning to his seat. "If Saren wasn't a Spectre. Wasn't one of the best. It wasn't a firefight, it was a dance, and he was leading us the whole time."

He scowled, and I knew that's what it had to be once I heard the flanging effect on his voice. "Once he heard the Normandy coming, he fled, geth covering his own retreat. We clambered aboard, under fire the whole time and carrying our wounded, and Joker took us out of the atmosphere just before the bomb blew."

HIs face was stern and cold, but when next he spoke, his voice cracked and flanged heavily. It was harder to make out what he was saying. "Two of Kirrahe's teams made it out of the blast radius. Ash's team didn't."

A dread silence hung in the air. I was the one writing all this down, I was the one who was writing the damn book. I should say something, ask a question, give my condolences, _anything_. But I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't look away from him, but I didn't have the courage to open my mouth, for fear of hurting him.

_He's a grown man, Alisa, he's not fragile._

But I saw that look in his eyes, icy and brittle, and I knew that wasn't true.

"After we were certain Sovereign wasn't following us, we returned and picked up what remained of the STG - a handful, including Kirrahe. They'd remain on board until we returned." Garrus leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands. "The Sentry Omega relay was on the opposite side of the galaxy from the Citadel. It took almost a week to get back. We needed it."

_Garrus trudged into the elevator. It was well past his shift, but he couldn't sleep. He wasn't alone - there were a few others in the mess hall, including Pressly and Adams. He thought he saw Chakwas drinking in her office, too._

_The mood aboardship had turned. Morale was at an all-time low. That wasn't surprising, Garrus thought. A ship follows her captain's lead. They'd all picked up on it._

_She'd barely spoken to anyone since they set foot on the Normandy. She hadn't been down to the cargo hold but one time, to check if Kirrahe or his men needed any medical attention. She'd spoken with Kaidan once, while he was still in the medbay, though 'spoken' was a poor term since she'd barely said three words to him. Her expression was stony and impassive, and she hadn't taken a meal with the crew since they'd left the Hoc system a day and a half ago._

_Garrus knew it couldn't continue forever. Shepard would come around. He just wished it would be soon. They'd need everyone at their fighting best soon enough, of that he had no doubt._

_The elevator doors opened and Garrus headed straight for the Mako. The cargo hold was empty, he could putter and tinker all night without any distractions. Including his own thoughts, which turned often to the Chief whenever he was idle._

_He grabbed a spanner and saw something in his periphery. Shepard was sitting over on one of the cargo crates in the corner, bottle in her hand, staring at nothing. She didn't seem to have noticed him._

_Garrus froze, and for a moment he debated what he should do, even though he already knew._

_He wandered up to Shepard, one knee pulled up to her chest as she sat. She finally noticed him, an emotion almost making itself known. "Hey."_

_"Hey," he replied. "Mind if I pull up a crate?"_

_Something passed across her face and he thought she might say no, but she didn't. Just turned back towards the cargo hold and nodded. "Plenty of room."_

_He took a seat. She pulled another bottle out from the crate she was sitting next to. "Dual chiral," she said._

_"Thanks." Garrus took it, popped it open, smelled it. He'd had a few of these before, back at C-Sec. They were awful, but one of the few things dextros and levos could share, so it was popular. Bonding over shitty beer was something that was universal, he supposed._

_"You okay?" He asked, knowing the answer._

_"No. You?"_

_"No."_

_They sat there. Shepard pulled her other leg up onto the crate and crossed them, wrapping her arms around her knees._

_"Never lost anyone like that."_

_He looked at her. "Really?"_

_"Lost people. Their shields drop and they get shot, shrapnel from an explosion catches them the wrong way, hull breach sucks them out before the fields can adjust." She took a drink, swallowed hard. "Never because of a choice I made."_

_Garrus took a swig of his own drink. Just as awful as he'd remembered._

_"Shepard," he said as slowly, quietly, and respectfully as he could. He turned to look at her, kept his expression as neutral as possible. He couldn't turn away after this. "Why did you leave Ashley?"_

_Shepard looked at him. If he hadn't been a cop on a station with humans, and if he hadn't served with her for as long as he had, he might not have caught most of the emotions that flickered across her face and eyes. Shock at the question. Disbelief that he'd question her judgment. Anger, at him and herself. All subtle, all within a matter of moments. She clenched her jaw and turned her head fully away from him, staring into the wall._

_Garrus hoped she would understand. He admired Shepard, respected her. More than that. He had just started to realize he considered her a friend, not just his commanding officer. He didn't want to presume too much, but he did want to help her. And this was the best way he could think of._

_He didn't turn away. He caught himself fidgeting and forced himself still. He stared at the back of Shepard's head, full of that strange red hair._

_Eventually, she turned back to the cargo hold and stared out into space. Her face had turned back to stone. He swallowed. She would get up and leave any second now. They wouldn't speak again, and he'd disembark once they landed on the Citadel. That would be the end of it._

_Only her eyes moved to look at him. He was twisting the bottle lightly in his hands and didn't bother trying to stop this time. She looked away, and when she began, he let her speak._

_"The bomb was the objective. Everything we had done, everyone who had already died, would have been for nothing if that bomb didn't go off. No matter how difficult it was to disarm, I couldn't risk it. Ash knew that, because she was a soldier, born and bred. She knew the risks, and she knew her duty, and if she or I had thought for an instant that I could get her out of there without jeopardizing the mission, there wouldn't have been any argument._

_"But I couldn't. So she told me to go back to Kaidan. He was saying not to, but he has this..." Her eyes narrowed and she gestured vaguely with her free hand. "This _stubborn nobility _that gets in the way sometimes. Ash didn't. She wasn't worried about Kaidan, no more than any other friend under fire. Her greatest concern was for the mission. Because she was a soldier, and that was her duty."_

_"I understood. Because if it were me, trapped and alone, fighting a losing battle, countless lives potentially hanging in the balance, and my commander had come for me instead of him..." Shepard paused, taking a quiet breath. "I'd never have forgiven them."_

_She turned her head and looked me in the eye, red hair framing her face. She spoke firmly, but she wasn't angry. There was something in her expression I couldn't place. "I left Ash behind because that's what she wanted. Because I respected her. She deserved nothing less than that. Questioning her sacrifice dishonors her memory. I won't have that."_

_Garrus nodded. Shepard averted her eyes and settled, letting one leg dangle back to the floor._

_"Shepard," Garrus said, voice cracking a little from the dryness of his throat. "What are you doing down here?"_

_Slowly, she looked back up and met his eyes, and there was that look on her face again. He'd seen it before. Where? Noveria, maybe?_

_Just like that, it was gone. In it's place were tired eyes and a small smile, and Garrus knew she'd figured him out. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Shepard looked away and nodded. "Yeah. Alright."_

_She looked back and raised her bottle. "To Ash."_

_Garrus clinked his against hers._

_"To Ash."_

_Five minutes later, Shepard left. "Garrus," she'd said to him before stepping into the elevator with that look on her face again, "Thanks."_

_Five minutes after that, Garrus took his awful beer and went to bed._

"That was the first time..." Garrus actually smiled a little as he stared down at this hands. "Well."

He didn't say anything more, and it didn't look like he was going to. I cleared my throat and found my voice. "First time what, sir?"

Garrus looked up at the ceiling and I saw his eyes move back and forth, thoughtfully. I wondered what he was considering telling em. He seemed to come to a decision, and nodded to himself. "The first time I was able to believe, really _believe,_ that I deserved to be on board that ship."


	20. Crew Unity

"Morale on the ship improved almost immediately." Garrus smiled proudly. "I like to think I had something to do with that. Of course no one forgot Ash - she had been too much a part of that ship not to feel her absence. But we knew that thanks to her, we had accomplished our mission. We had Saren on the run. And the Council was finally starting to take the threat he posed seriously."

He clasped his hands together and he seemed to relax, and so did I. Virmire was a trouble spot for him, on a number of levels. Maybe after this, things would be okay. For a while anyway. I already knew how this story ended. Everyone did.

"The last couple days back to the Citadel, the crew felt ready for anything again. For Ash, they'd fly that ship through hell itself to finish the fight. Spirits started to run high. And I remember three things in particular."

He turned and gave me a weird turian half-smile. "One involved me and Tali."

_"I wish I _was_ the only dextro on board!" She stomped her foot, looking for all the world like a petulant child. "At least I wouldn't have to deal with your nonsense!"_

_"Same here!" Garrus shot back. "If there were an engineer here who understood a thing about weapons systems-"_

_"Are you insulting my abilities?" She sputtered. "I learned more about ships when I was five years old than you'll _ever_ know!"_

_"Clearly not, or else you'd be able to see reason!" Unconsciously, he took a step forward, looming over her._

_She responded by stepping forward, not giving one whit about the height difference, and looked right up at him, fists at her sides. "Why you pointy turian _bosh'tet-"

_"Hey!" Shepard's voice made them both turn and straighten. She was striding toward them with all the authority at her disposal, which was considerable. "What in the _hell_ are you two arguing about? You're scaring Adams."_

_Garrus noticed the human chief engineer, standing behind Shepard, for the first time. He was grimacing at them from over crossed arms._

_"It's... not important, Commander." Garrus placed his hands behind his back, at parade rest. "A difference of opinion."_

_"Like hell," Tali said, standing straight but decidedly unmilitary, and with no deference to her commanding officer. "He comes down here asking why the main guns aren't at full power, as though that's _his_ responsibility, and-"_

_"I had checked the power outputs out of habit," Garrus clarified, firmly interrupting her. "And it's a good thing, because the power had fluctuated out of nominal range for a ship of this class."_

_"We don't _need_ the guns at full power when we're in FTL, you stupid-"_

_"Quiet!" Shepard barked. "Both of you." She cast a pointed look at Garrus, which made him avert his eyes._

_Shepard sighed, running her hand through her hair. She kept her voice firm and even. "Garrus, we both know why this is bothering you. She wouldn't care and you know it. Back off."_

_Garrus almost opened his mouth, but quietly and firmly checked himself. Shepard was right, of course - the chief wouldn't have given a damn. But he had been thinking about her and seeing it had hit a nerve. He nodded slowly._

_She lingered her gaze on him for a moment, then turned to Tali. "Tali, Alliance regs require a certain amount of power deference to the guns regardless of whether the ship is in FTL or not."_

_"Shepard, this isn't really an Alliance ship-"_

_"It is as long as I'm aboard." Shepard gave Tali a momentary death glare. She clasped her hands and wrung them nervously. Shepard's expression softened and she touched Tali's shoulder. "I may play a bit fast and loose with the rules sometimes, but some of them are there for a reason. Adams wanted me to talk to you about it before this thing with Garrus came up."_

_"I don't understand why," Tali said, softly, "but if that's the way it is, I won't say another word about it."_

_"Talk to Adams," Shepard said gently. She smiled wryly. "I know he's no quarian. But he'll be happy to explain all about Systems Alliance engineering procedures until you're ready to jump out an airlock."_

_Tali chuckled awkwardly through her helmet. Shepard lowered her arm._

_"Alright," she said, nodding to them both. "Now hug."_

_They both froze._

_"You're friends and you know it." Shepard crossed her arms. "That's a direct order."_

_They followed the orders of their commanding officer to the letter, if not the spirit - it was less a hug and more a brief, uncomfortable embrace. Shepard grinned anyway._

_"Good. If I hear about you two fighting again, you're both spending the night in the brig." She turned on her heel and walked off. "I trust you both have duties to perform," she called over her shoulder._

_Garrus looked at Tali, who looked at him. They both averted their eyes. She wrung her hands, Garrus rubbed at his elbow spur._

_"I'm sorry, I..."_

_"No, it's... I'm sorry too."_

_There was a small pause. Tali looked up at Garrus. "You're still an unreasonable bosh'tet."_

_Garrus looked down. "Only because you were wrong."_

_He stuck out a hand. She shook it._

_And it was like nothing ever happened._

Garrus chuckled, which made me smile. It had been a while since I'd heard him laugh.

"Tali was like that. Even before she finished her pilgrimage, she was always convinced she was right." He flexed one mandible and lowered the other - a smirk, at least how I'd come to interpret his expressions. "Still is, actually. Wouldn't have it any other way."

I was in the middle of a sentence when he reached out and grabbed my hand suddenly and I dropped the pen. I looked up at him with eyes as big as dinner plates.

"Don't write that last bit." He cleared his throat nervously and removed his hand. "I'll never hear the end of it," he mumbled.

I nodded quickly and picked my pen back up, scribbling out the offending line. "Sorry."

"No, you're doing fine," he reassured me. "It's, uh... it's nothing important. To you. To the _book_, I mean."

I took a long hard look at him, at the set of his shoulders, the look in his eyes, the way his fingers were twiddling. I may have been young, but I was no fool. He caught me looking and gave me a significant stare.

"No insinuation," he reiterated deliberately. I gave him a skeptical look (I felt he'd earned it) but nodded. As I turned back to the paper, I heard him sigh, and I could swear it was a _relieved_ sort of sigh.

_It's his business, Alisa, he can keep it to himself if he wants._

It was. Still, part of me (the nosy part, I guessed) hoped that whatever was up with those two would come out at some point.

"Where was I?" He asked, not looking at me.

"Three things."

"Oh yes." Garrus smiled again. "The second involved Wrex."

_Garrus didn't expect Pressly to give him another lecture. Sure, he'd been cleaning his gun on the mess hall table - again - but he hadn't gotten in trouble the last few times. Turned out it wasn't really about that - it was just an excuse to give him hell for shouting at Tali. He'd half suspected she'd put Pressly up to it, but somehow Garrus didn't think so. They'd been entirely friendly with each other at breakfast, Tali sitting across from him as usual and flicking pieces of her sterilized ration packet at him while he complimented how fine her immune system seemed this morning._

_No, he suspected Pressly took this upon himself. And while he was a little bit indignant that Pressly had just _presumed_ himself Tali's protector on the ship, Garrus knew his heart was in the right place. It did him good to know that Pressly gave a damn about any alien crewmember, let alone a quarian._

_So now he was taking the elevator, Pressly's lecture about his "antagonistic behavior damaging crew unity" ringing in his ears, ready to return his rifle to his locker and putter around the Mako for another hour or two before bed._

_He was not prepared for what he saw when the doors opened._

_Wrex stood in the center of the hold with his back to him, stance wide, hands balled into fists. He pulled back his head - really, his whole upper body - and thrust it forward into the air with a yell._

_Beside him, Shepard reared back, and thrust her own head forward, wincing afterward and rubbing her neck. "Ow, shit."_

_"You're still not getting it," Wrex said, authoritatively, not turning his head. "You're using your neck."_

_"What else am I supposed to use?" Shepard asked, lolling her head from side to side. "I think I heard something pop."_

_"That's the problem," Wrex replied soberly. "You humans are too frail."_

_"Are not."_

_"Are too."_

_Garrus could see Shepard's grin when she turned her head. He slowly, quietly, stepped out of the elevator and to the side, settling against the wall and cradling his rifle in his crossed arms. He didn't want to interrupt. And he wouldn't miss this for the galaxy._

_"You don't even have a neck."_

_"Not important," Wrex said, still not turning his head. He didn't need to, Garrus remembered - krogan had 240 degree vision. "What is important is that you're not following through."_

_"With _what?"_ Shepard asked. "My _hump?"

_"Your _body_," Wrex corrected firmly. "A good headbutt will easily put down a smaller species."_

_"And against a krogan?"_

_"Then you're not trying to put him down. You're striking at something far more vulnerable." Garrus still couldn't see Wrex's face, but he turned slightly and he could hear him grinning. "His pride."_

_Shepard shook her head. "And here I thought I was learning how to fight like a krogan."_

_"You don't need it." Shepard's head turned quickly and Garrus' brow plate raised as Wrex shrugged away that tremendous compliment. "What you need to learn is how to properly show disrespect. Krogan headbutts you, you're probably dead. You headbutt a krogan, and he'll never live it down for the rest of his life." His tone said he was grinning again. "Which, knowing you, won't be long."_

_Shepard shifted on her feet, and Garrus could swear she was blushing. "Flatterer."_

_Wrex barked a laugh. Then it was right back to business. "Alright, let's try a live target." Wrex turned and faced Shepard. He tapped a finger on his face. "Right between the eyes."_

_She turned, bounced on her feet a few times, rolled her head on her shoulders. Then set herself, balled her fists, kept her spine steady, pulled back, then stepped forward and headbutt Wrex full on the face. To her credit, she didn't stagger, but when she leaned back she brushed the back of her hand against her forehead and it came away red._

_"Good." Wrex nodded. "No hesitation. Full committment. Good form."_

_"You feel anything?"_

_"No. But it's not about hurting me, remember?"_

_"Right." Shepard brushed her forehead once more and set herself. "Again?"_

_"No point." Wrex nudged her on the shoulder, which almost made her lose her balance. "You've got the form, and you've got the skull for it. That's all you need."_

_"Not sure how I should take that last one," Shepard said, rubbing the back of her head for emphasis._

_"Just calling it how I see it, Shepard." Wrex was in a good mood today - that was three grins in as many minutes. Garrus saw his eye shift. "Enjoying the show, Vakarian?"_

_Shepard turned and saw him, and he shifted one arm enough to give a little wave. "Just passing through, didn't want to interrupt your important training session."_

_"I figure I should take the opportunity," Shepard said with a smirk as she jerked her head towards the krogan. "Not every day you get to learn from the best."_

_Wrex laughed again and shook his head, wandering back over to his usual spot near the weapons cache._

_"Just let me know when you want to learn something _useful_," Garrus shot back as he pushed away from the wall and headed for his locker. "A steady aim and a bit of distance solves all of life's problems."_

_"That so?" Shepard asked. "When you free?"_

_Garrus stopped in his tracks. He had been joking. "Uh. Well... right now, I suppose."_

_Shepard smiled, a bruise and a bit of dried blood right in the middle of her forehead. "Then show me what you've got, Vakarian."_

"Now _there's_ an image I'll never get out of my head," Garrus said with a smile as he rubbed his own forehead. "Surreal, is what it was. I made her slap some medigel on it before we started. Considered asking her to go check with Chakwas, see if she had a concussion, but decided against it. That... wouldn't have come out right."

"I know what that's like," I said, honestly. He stifled a laugh, and I blushed a bit. He gave an apologetic shrug, though he was smiling like a loon when he did. I decided to use my tremendous conversation skills to subtly change the subject.

"And the third thing?"

His brow plate lowered slightly and he narrowed his eyes. I ruined his fun at my expense, but he got over it quickly enough. "The third thing was between Shepard and Liara."

_"Shepard," Liara said, her food sitting untouched in front of her. "I wanted to... apologize."_

_Shepard quickly swallowed a bite of what she had described to Garrus as 'steak, if steak were a vague philosophical concept.' "For what?"_

_Liara sighed, speaking quietly. "For taking up space on your ship. I am sure you would prefer another soldier or mercenary, someone who can fight. I am afraid I have not been much help in that regard."_

_Shepard nudged Liara, who was sitting next to her for once. "Hey, you do alright. You certainly held your own against those rachni."_

_"Still, I... intruded onto your mission. I am a necessity, not a choice."_

_Shepard's good humor washed away almost instantly. "Who told you that."_

_Liara looked up, eyes wide. "Shepard, I do not wish to get anyone in trouble-"_

_"It was Joker, wasn't it." Shepard looked around the table, found Joker missing, and began to get up from her seat, attracting the attention of the rest of the group. "That fucking _jackass,_ I'll-"_

_"No!" Liara caught her arm. "Shepard, no one said anything. I mean it."_

_Shepard narrowed her eyes and slowly sat back down. The rest of the table turned back to their food, including Garrus. This felt like a conversation he shouldn't involve himself in unless asked._

_"I am not that great a fool, Shepard," Liara said simply. "It is not difficult to pick up on certain... attitudes."_

_Garrus surreptitiously glanced up from his food. Directly across from him, Shepard was grimacing. Now he knew there was no helping her, even if he wanted to. Like his father had always said, there are some battles we must fight alone._

_"Liara..." Garrus saw Shepard brace one elbow on the table in his peripheral vision. She rested her head on her hand, looking at Liara. "That was all me."_

_Liara nodded sadly._

_"I was wrong, and I'm sorry."_

_She looked up. "Shepard-"_

_"No, let me finish." Shepard sighed and Garrus heard her blow air through her lips. Probably at some stray hair falling in front of her face. He'd never understand hair. "It's true, I don't like being stuck with anyone under my command. I like to pick my people. And... I don't much like 'embracing eternity.'"_

_Garrus almost choked on his food and quickly went for his drink. He thought he saw Shepard shoot him a dirty look, but he knew he'd deserved it, so he said nothing._

_"But you've proven your worth to this ship numerous times. No one could question your committment, or your loyalty. Far as I'm concerned, you're as much a part of this ship as anyone." She reached out and pat Liara on the shoulder. "You're crew. If anyone tells you otherwise, slap them with a singularity."_

_Garrus glanced up. Liara was smiling softly. "Thank you, Shepard. For being honest with me."_

_Shepard took her head off her hand and settled back into her food. "I don't lie to crew, Liara," she said simply, cutting into her ethereal steak._

_Liara's smile widened, felt more honest. "Of course." She picked up her fork and knife and began to eat._

_Garrus caught Shepard's eye and nodded. Shepard pointed her fork in his direction and gave him a look - _watch it._ Garrus spread his fingers while keeping hold of his utensils, looking innocent._

_Shepard threw a green bean into his food. If a turian could pout, he did, mandibles slack as he took his plate and went to dump it in the garbage disposal. He didn't feel like risking anaphylactic shock tonight._

"Was that a, uh." I struggled for the correct phrasing. "A typical disciplinary action?"

Garrus laughed, voice flanging into the higher registers. "Couldn't put it any better myself. Did it to Tali once, too. She was _particularly_ pouty about it, as you can imagine."

"What did the crew think of this?"

"The rest of them?" Garrus considered it a moment, then shrugged. "They never really noticed. Food gets thrown around with a bit of abandon on Systems Alliance ships. It's prepackaged rations, generally, never good enough to really treat with respect. Happened a lot less on the SR-2, but that's what happens when your ship has a dedicated cook and kitchen. You don't disrespect the man who puts your meals together when he's standing five meters away.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself," he said, waving me away. "Those are the three things I remember most about the trip back to the Citadel. Once we got there... things stopped being pleasant."


	21. Endgame

"Turns out the Council wasn't as gung-ho as we thought," he said, leaning on the table once more. "The fleet they had formed was meant to protect the Citadel, not go searching for Saren. And thanks to Liara, we'd just learned that the Conduit, whatever it was, was on Ilos, beyond the old Mu relay. Shepard demanded that she take her ship and it's fancy new stealth drive and go there herself, but _Udina_ was playing politics." Garrus frowned heavily, voice rumbling deep ins his chest. "He wanted to make nice, so he grounded the ship."

There was something like a dual-toned growl that came out of his throat, and I saw his mandibles flutter. "After all we'd been through, all we'd accomplished, we were shut down. It tore us up. All of us, but Shepard in particular. And that would have been that - Saren would have won, if it weren't for Anderson."

I nodded solemnly, saying nothing. Everyone knew Captain David Anderson, almost as much as they knew Commander Shepard. Any human over thirty would tell you he was the unsung hero of the Reaper War, kept the people together, strong and united, even in face of a devastating invasion. He wasn't looked upon with the reverence most other races reserved for her, but in the pantheon of humanity's heroes, he stood second only to Shepard herself.

Garrus' expression turned - he looked wistfully off into the middle distance, nodding to himself. "Anderson wasn't a good man - he was a _great_ one. He was like a father to Shepard, took her under his wing when she made N7. He had an easy smile, and he was too damn honest for his own good; never had the skill at putting on a mask for his crew." He smiled, but it seemed like a sad sort of smile. "Even when he tried to hide it, he wore his heart on his sleeve, plain as his rank. Always had a kind word, or a firm hand on a shoulder. He put his trust in her so completely, and she _always_ tried to be worthy of it." He looked down at his hands and flexed them gently. "I think she valued his respect more than anyone else's."

There was a moment of silence. Then he grinned at me. "So when he burst into Udina's office, socked him in the jaw, and unlocked the Normandy's systems, Shepard did exactly what he wanted her to - we made for the Mu relay like a bat out of hell."

"No one objected?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He shook his head. "Shepard's ship. Shepard's crew. Shepard's people."

I nodded, and I realized I was smiling. I'd heard stories about Shepard's crew before, but the loyalty they had for her still plucked at the old heart strings. Same for any other sentient in the galaxy, I guessed. Except maybe the geth, or maybe that was just me being specist.

"It was a little over a day before we'd hit the relay. The crew did what they could to make sure they were ready, keep their spirits up and... ease tension." Garrus' jaw flexed, mandibles briefly flicking outward. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked upset, but it was gone before I could dwell on it. He relaxed and turned to me. "I did see Shepard, once. Briefly, a few hours after we undocked."

_Garrus was a bundle of awful, awful nerves. This was it - the endgame. It was all up to them now. He _knew_ they could do it, he had as much faith in this crew's abilities as any he'd ever served with. But even so, his stomach was a knot. On a turian ship, he would have had options to take his mind off things, but on the Normandy? No such luck._

_He just hoped Shepard wouldn't mind him tinkering with the damn Mako again._

_As the doors opened, Garrus saw her, over by the lockers. She was leaning against one, staring it like she was trying to bore a hole through it. She looked thoroughly preoccupied._

_He shouldn't interrupt. He should leave her to her thoughts. He should just go over to the Mako and start reinforcing the armor plating like he'd been talking about. If she wanted to talk, she'd initiate the conversation. That was how it always was._

_"Shepard," Garrus said, ignoring every sensible thought and striding up to his own locker. "You okay?"_

_Shepard didn't turn to him, only acknowledged his presence through her voice and a slight quirk in her lip. "Garrus," she greeted. "I'm alright."_

_It was only then that Garrus noticed Shepard wasn't standing in front of her own locker._

_"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't realize-"_

_"I'm not cleaning it out," she cut in, still staring at it. "Not until this is over. Not like it'll matter unless we succeed, anyway."_

_Garrus had to ask. "So... what are you doing?"_

_Shepard took a deep breath, then turned to face him, one hand still on the wall of lockers. "She left a message. Before Virmire. Most of it was for her family, her sisters, but." She swallowed. "Some of it was for the crew."_

_He nodded slowly and realized he was fidgeting, so he clasped his hands behind his back and went straight to parade rest. "I see."_

_"She had some personal items she wanted passed out." Shepard turned back to the locker. "Just taking a moment to get it together before I hand them out."_

_"Of course." There was a long, awkward pause. Garrus hated awkward. "I'll leave you to it, commander."_

_"Hang on," she said, stopping him dead in his tracks. She took a breath, then keyed open Ash's locker. She looked it up and down, searchingly, and Garrus noticed she had her mask on again. He often wondered exactly how much strength it took to keep that up. Humans were so naturally and instinctively expressive, to bury it must have been a strain._

_She found what she was looking for on the top shelf - a row of worn, dogeared tomes. She ran a finger along them until she found one in particular, then pulled it out and opened it. When she began to speak, Garrus just stood there, frozen._

_"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,_

_And sorry I could not travel both_

_And be one traveler, long I stood_

_And looked down one as far as I could_

_To where it bent in the undergrowth;_

_Then took the other, as just as fair,_

_And having perhaps the better claim,_

_Because it was grassy and wanted wear;_

_Though as for that the passing there_

_Had worn them really about the same,_

_And both that morning equally lay_

_In leaves no step had trodden black._

_Oh, I kept the first for another day!_

_Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_

_I doubted if I should ever come back._

_I shall be telling this with a sigh_

_Somewhere ages and ages hence:_

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference."_

_Shepard closed the book. She closed her eyes, and the mask cracked. She smiled. "Could have given me Tennyson. Gave me Frost."_

_"Commander?"_

_She shook her head. "Nothing. She knew me better than I thought she did. That's all." She reached into the locker and pulled out another worn out collection of paper. "This one's for you."_

_She opened it same as the other one, and recited, briefly:_

_"'Forward, the Light Brigade!'_

_Was there a man dismay'd?_

_Not tho' the soldiers knew_

_Some one had blunder'd:_

_Theirs not to make reply,_

_Theirs not to reason why,_

_Theirs but to do and die:_

_Into the valley of Death_

_Rode the six hundred."_

_She closed it and held it out. Garrus took it from her hand and held it reverently. "How very turian," he said, and Shepard laughed softly._

_"Military loves Tennyson," she said, reaching up and collecting a few more books. She pulled one out in particular and looked... Garrus wasn't sure how she looked, actually._

_"I've got to go hand these out." Shepard nodded, tucked the stack of books under her arm. "Try not to take apart the entire Mako," she said, a ghost of her usual smirk passing across her face as she turned to leave. Garrus was left there, considering the book he held in his hands. When he looked up, he saw Shepard hand something to Wrex, and actually felt his stomach tighten._

_Ash had left something for Wrex._

_Wrex stared at the book offered to him, took it in two fingers, and regarded it strangely. He opened it gently and stared at the pages, even though he couldn't read them. He looked up and nodded to Shepard, who strode over to the elevator._

_Garrus looked down at the book in his own hands. He couldn't read it. Ash had known that. But neither could Wrex, and she'd known that too._

_He went over to his locker and placed it on the top shelf, underneath his helmet. He'd have to get a translation protocol installed on his visor when this was over._

"I trust I don't need to talk about Ilos much."

I blinked a bit (I had been staring at the physical books he had over on the shelf) then shook my head. Everyone knew about Ilos, and what Shepard found. The part about the grounding and the mutiny, though - that was new to me. I guessed the Council didn't like to publicize their own mistakes as much as Shepard's heroism, even thirty years later.

"Well, suffice to say, it was hell fighting through that damn bunker. Lots of geth. Very nasty. And the Mako didn't want to cooperate either."

"Who was on the ground team?" I asked. "That part was never clear."

Garrus' mandibles twitched back and forth. "There was some debate about that aboard the Normandy, as well."

_"Garrus, Wrex, suit up."_

_Garrus looked up from where he was scraping some carbon scoring off one of his gauntlets. "Thought Joker couldn't drop the Mako yet."_

_"Can't wait, and he says he only needs twenty meters." Shepard headed straight to her locker and pulled it open, grabbing her armor._

_"You believe him?" Garrus asked conversationally as he and Wrex made for their own lockers._

_"Only when he's talking about his ability to fly," Shepard said, stepping into her boots and strapping them on._

_"Hell," Wrex grumbled. "Not like it matters. We die on the drop or we sit on our hands. Same outcome."_

_"My thoughts exactly," Shepard replied._

_The elevator doors opened and Kaidan, Liara and Tali headed straight for the locker bay. They didn't look happy._

_Kaidan started first. "Commander-"_

_"The ship is yours, Kaidan." Shepard said firmly, still focused on her armor and not on anyone's face. "Keep her safe."_

_"Commander, with all due respect-"_

_"Remember what Ash used to say about that?"_

_That brought Kaidan up a bit short. While he struggled to find his words again, Tali took up the slack. "Shepard, I can fight-"_

_"I want you in engineering, Tali. This ship is going straight back to the Citadel."_

_"What?" Tali sputtered. "What are we going to do there?"_

_"Fight." Shepard pulled on her chest piece, sealing the sides. "Sovereign's not here. There's nothing but geth dropships. It's going for the Citadel, and no matter how many ships they've got, they're going to need more. And you're the best chance the Normandy's got at staying together long enough to put some holes in a Reaper."_

_Now Tali lost her voice, and it was Liara's turn. "Shepard, I-"_

_"I'm sorry, Liara." Shepard actually looked her in the eye as she rolled her shoulders, checking the joint. "This isn't where I need you."_

_Liara looked shocked, then saddened. She nodded slowly. _

_"Until this is over, I want you assisting Pressly as XO. Keep everyone's head on straight, and make sure everyone has everything they need. And if worse comes to worst..." Shepard started strapping on her gauntlets. "Throw up some barriers to seal any hull breaches and assist Chakwas with triage."_

_Liara nodded again, sternly. Kaidan stepped closer._

_"Shepard."_

_She met his eyes and they shared a significant look, one even Garrus couldn't miss. He seemed to back down._

_"I'll keep her flying."_

_"I know you will." Shepard flexed her arms across her chest, checked movement and seals, then pulled her rifle out of the locker. "Joker, time to drop."_

_"Five minutes, Commander," Joker's voice piped in through the ship's intercom._

_"Alright." Shepard shouldered her rifle and gave each of them a look in turn. "You all know your duty. I know you'll make me proud." Her gaze lingered on Liara. "All of you."_

_Shepard turned and headed for the Mako, not sparing a glance to see if Garrus and Wrex were right behind her. "This thing better run, Garrus."_

_"Like a dream, Shepard," he replied._

_"Like I said before," Wrex commented, "if we die in the drop, not like it matters."_

_"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried, Wrex." Garrus slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand._

_"You kidding?" Shepard levered herself into the driver's seat. "Wrex's sunny optimism is the only thing that's kept me going."_

_Wrex grumbled something about 'being realistic' as he climbed up into the gunner's seat._

"How did Saren die?"

Garrus looked up from his hands and I saw his brow plates twitch.

"I mean, I know the rest. Everyone knows." I twisted in my seat to face him better and I could feel myself getting excited. I never really thought I was that big into history, but talking to someone who was really _there_ for something this big will bring out the fascination in anyone. "The Conduit, Vigil, the Citadel, all that. You have to have seen the vids, the battle on the outside of the station is always the highlight."

His mandibles twitched, amused. "It was less exciting and more terrifying when we were actually doing it."

"But no one really knows how Saren died." I gestured vaguely with my hands. "There's all kinds of rumors that he committed suicide, that Shepard killed him before he could say a word, that he transformed into some kind of organic-Reaper hybrid, that it was a knock-down, drag-out bare knuckle brawl-"

"Now _that's_ just absurd."

"So what _did_ happen?"

Garrus tilted his head. "A little of everything. Saren had implants, Reaper tech from Sovereign. The more Shepard tried to get him to see reason, the more pain they caused. Eventually, she gambled that there was enough of him left to fight it, and stepped right out from cover and practically _dared_ him to shoot her."

"And did he?"

Garrus mimicked a gun with his fingers. He pointed it at me, then, slowly, at himself. I shivered.

"Wow."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Of course, when we were looking down at his body, Shepard still told us to make sure he was dead. Wrex was the one who put the last few bullets in his skull. Thought about flipping a coin for it, but." He waved a hand dismissively. "Figured he had the greater right to it. There was some... unpleasantness with the corpse, but that doesn't matter. He was still dead."

"And meanwhile Sovereign gets pounded by the Council's fleet." I made a fist and punched it into my palm.

"Yep." He nodded.

"And they destroy it before it can call the rest of the Reapers!" I bounced a little in my seat.

"Yeah." Nodded again.

"And the Council was saved thanks to the sacrifice of the Alliance fleet!"

"Cairo, Cape Town, Emden, Hong Kong, Jakarta, Madrid, Perugia, Seoul, Shenyang, and Warsaw," he recited from memory.

"And-" I stopped myself short. The entirety of the Battle of the Citadel had been passed over in a matter of minutes. The Citadel was in ruins, the fleets were decimated, Sovereign was a smoking wreck, and Shepard had saved the galaxy for the first time. What did that leave?

I saw the look in his eyes, just before he turned them away from me. Icy and brittle.

Not much at all.


	22. Old, Unhappy, Far Off Things

For a long time, neither of us said anything. I wasn't about to press him for this. This was... well, if anything else was hard, this was a lot harder. Looking into his eyes and seeing the hurt there plain as day, thirty years later, I couldn't even imagine what it was like for him at the time.

As the silence grew around us, thick and solemn, I began to wonder if this was it. Maybe this was all I would get out of him. I could live with that, I supposed. It was more than anyone else had ever gotten, certainly. And maybe with his blessing, I could talk to others on the crew. I didn't have to rely on him so much, it wasn't fair.

_Just wait, Alisa. This is his decision._

I waited.

Slowly, Garrus stood, hands braced against the table. He looked down between them and whatever I saw in his eyes, his face was still unreadable.

"I can't do this anymore," he said quietly. He pushed away from the table, headed back to his office, and closed the door.

Well. That was abrupt.

I couldn't help but sigh a little, disappointment and sympathy mingling in my mind. I gathered up all that I'd written - thousands and thousands of words, some underlined, some circled, arrows pointing from one to another, notes in the margins. I had used almost the entire pad of paper he'd given me. This was enough, I thought. More than enough. Far more than I deserved. I could scan all this into my omni-tool later, and then sort through it better-

Oh no. He still had my omni-tool.

I needed it back, there was just no leaving without it. I had too much on it to just dump it and get a new one. Hell, I barely had the money to anyway. I had to ask. He must have forgotten. That's all.

I wandered over to the office door.

_Just knock and ask, Alisa. That's all._

I swallowed and raised my hand to knock.

The door slid open, and I knocked him right on the chest. He looked down at my hand just before I yanked it back.

"I'm sorry, sir, I was just-"

I stopped short when I noticed what he was carrying - a blanket over one arm, and a pillow tucked under the other.

I blinked stupidly. His face was a mask.

"Thought you could use them. The couch is turian. Not comfortable." His voice was clipped and somehow less resonant. "We can start again tomorrow."

Tomorrow? "Uh. Okay?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't think this was going to take just one day, did you?"

I nodded, then I shook my head. He looked confused as he stood there. So did I, until I realized I was in his way. I stammered out an apology while he walked past me, uncaring. He laid the pillow on the couch along the opposite wall from his bar, and set the blanket aside. He reached over and turned out the lights and aside from the light from his office, it was totally dark. I realized just how far from civilization we were - I could see the stars out the windows.

"There's glasses in the top right cabinet," he said, pointing into the kitchen. "If you need some water, or anything."

"T-thanks." I said, hands fiddling with my pockets until I caught myself and hugged my elbows. "I'll be okay."

Garrus nodded curtly at me, then headed for the door to his office.

"Good night, sir. Uh, Primarch. _Garrus_."

He froze, his hand on the doorframe. It was a good thing it was dark or he might have seen me turn a perfect shade of red. He half-turned, and his strange and alien profile was framed by light. "Good night, Alisa."

He shut the door behind him, and I was left in darkness.

* * *

><p>I awoke from odd, fitful dreams of a red haired woman with green eyes. The only one I remembered was the one where she sang as she swung a scythe in rolling fields that looked very much like the ones I remember from Dekuuna.<p>

It was still dark. I checked my wrist out of habit, then remembered I didn't have my omni-tool. I looked around for a clock. There still wasn't one. I sighed and thought about rolling over, trying to get back to sleep, then thought better of it and went to get some water. I might gotten a drink instead, but in the dark I didn't trust myself not to pour something dextro, and wouldn't _that_ be an ignominious end to this little adventure.

As I looked for the glasses (_top right cabinet, Alisa_) I wondered if Garrus was still up. I imagined that he was, unless he'd downed some pills to help him sleep. Maybe we could talk a bit. Not about Shepard or anything, just... talk. It had always helped my insomnia, especially back on Dekuuna. Most elcor aren't great conversationalists, but they are soothing to listen to. Turian subtonals would probably have the same effect.

I stuck the glass under the faucet and filled it. No, it wouldn't be right to knock on his door. He'd had a long day, he deserved his rest. Of course, my day wasn't all peaches and cream either, but I'd always been a rough sleeper.

I turned back to the couch, intent on climbing back in and trying to sleep again, when I noticed that Garrus was out on the deck.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the railing. One leg was raised slightly, set along the bottom. He was staring out at the sea, listening to the waves.

And his mouth was moving.

_Don't do it, Alisa. This is a bad idea._

I wandered over to the wall.

_If he catches you, it's all over._

I sidled along the edge.

_This makes you a terrible person, you know that._

I got as close as I could to the door and strained my ears to try and hear.

Nothing.

_Okay, great. Now back away._

I stuck out a finger.

_You are a big, dumb, idiot, Alisa Parasini._

I pushed very_, very_ gently, and the door slid open just a crack.

"-you put it? 'The never-ending battle?'" Garrus chuckled. "You humans and your way with words."

I felt every nerve tingling and I tried not to breath too loud even though the waves and the wind clearly would have drowned me out.

"So what do you think about Alisa?" I almost gasped and slapped my hand against my mouth. "She seems... I don't know. There's something of her mother in there, somewhere, but... probably takes more after her father." A pause. "Yeah, well, at least she got her looks. She's the spitting image, as far as I can remember."

Another pause. Garrus smiled, mandibles flexing outward, lit by moonlight. "Been a while since I've _remembered_ this much. Or tried to, I guess. It's..." He breathed deeply. "...good. I'm sure I'll be regretting it later, just like always, but right now? It's good. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, though. Probably why I'm still up."

He laughed softly. "Right. What am I complaining about? I get to talk about _you_ some more."

I realized there was something in his hands. I squinted through the dark, trying to make it out.

"I have to say, I didn't expect this when I woke up this morning. And yet, here I am. What does that tell you?"

A rosary? No, why would he have a rosary?

"Maybe I've been wanting to do this for a while. Maybe I just needed someone honest. Or... maybe just someone with a good excuse. I don't know."

Some kind of necklace?

"Wish you were here. You could see right through me, tell me what the hell I think I'm doing. Because _I_ certainly don't know."

The light caught it a certain way and I had to cover my mouth again.

Garrus sighed. "Wish you were here for a lot of reasons."

I felt awful. Beyond awful. I needed to back away and cover my head with the pillow. Let him be alone. This was wrong.

"You know what scares me? You'll never guess." He gently ran his fingers along the chain. "That one day I'll wake up, and it won't hurt at all. It'll be like it never happened."

He looked down at the N7 tags in his hand. "Don't know if I could deal with that."

I tore myself away and snuck back to the sofa. I downed all the water in the glass and set it on the floor, then bundled myself in the blanket and buried my head under the pillow.

I swore to myself that I would never eavesdrop again. Never.


	23. The Second Day

I awoke to the sound of flanging, reverberating humming and the smell of food.

Once I sat up, pulling the pillow off my head and running a hand through my ruined hair, I saw Garrus poking at something sizzling quietly in a pan. His clothes had changed - similar cut, different colors. Blue and white, with patches of yellow here and there. He was humming a catchy tune I'd never heard before.

The sight and sound of him, looking so normal and mundane cooking breakfast in his kitchen, was both completely strange and intensely reassuring. Before he wished me good night, he seemed to be fighting not to break down in front of me. And then, later...

He glanced over and saw I was awake. "Good morning, Alisa," he said jovially. "Sleep well?"

I couldn't help but smile. "I'm a rough sleeper, but I did okay, sir, thank you." I swallowed. "How about... you? Did you sleep?"

He doesn't look up from his pan, still poking and prodding at something I can't see. "Not well," he said, "but enough."

I decided to believe him. It was all I could do. I stood and stretched, long and hard and I almost felt something give in my leg. "What's for breakfast?" I asked.

He smiled, and I was glad to see it. "The only two levo foods I can cook."

I wandered into the kitchen and saw that there was another pan, just behind the other. It was covered and sizzling quietly. The contents of the first pan, however...

"Scrambled eggs?" I said, my mouth already watering.

"And sausage," he added, lifting up the other pan's lid. The sausage links sizzled angrily before he replaced it. "Both dry and overdone. Can't exactly make them to taste."

"That's just fine with me, sir," I said hungrily. "Absolutely."

He told me where the plates were and I set the table - he'd already cleared off the old pizza boxes and rifle parts from yesterday, leaving only my pen and pad of paper, along with a new blank pad placed next to it. I caught myself looking at my wrist again, then looking for a non-existent clock. I knew it was early, the sun hadn't risen all that high yet. I wondered exactly how late it had been when I caught him last night, exactly how much sleep he had gotten, how much sleep turians even _needed_.

_Forget it, Alisa. He's fine._

I knew that wasn't true. But it's not like I could do anything about it, so I just got us both glasses of water and sat down patiently.

It was a minute longer before he came out and deposited far too many eggs and sausages on my plate, and I had to fight back the urge to dive in before he had gotten his own food. He brought out a weird, leathery egg from the fridge, set it in one of those little egg cup things, and placed it in front of him. I couldn't help but stare.

"What's that?" I asked.

He grinned. "A Palaven bachelor's breakfast. Quick, cheap, and easy."

We ate. He was right, the eggs were a bit dry and the sausage was a bit burnt, but like hell was _I_ going to say anything. I could barely boil water in a kitchen without screwing it up, and he was being immensely courteous. I watched him cut open the top of his dappled tan egg with some kind of turian knife, and then scoop and eat it right out of the shell with an oddly shaped spoon. It didn't exactly look appetizing - a bit like thick, goopy oatmeal - but he seemed to be enjoying it.

"How did you learn to cook levo food?" I had to ask, in between bites.

He hummed through a bite of his egg, then swallowed. "Long story."

I squinted at him and stifled a laugh. "Uh. Remember why I'm here?"

That startled a laugh out of him, brief and barking. "Right, right. A long story." He grinned and I was glad he was in such high spirits today. "Sorry to say, I didn't learn it from Shepard."

"Good," I shot back. "Then I don't have to write it down."

He gave me an amused look. "Okay, Parasini. But this is skipping ahead quite a bit, so just listen and don't ask questions."

_Garrus leaned on the counter and stared down at the ingredients below him. He flexed his mandibles back and forth, hoping for a bolt of inspiration. None came._

_A carton of a dozen small white eggs, a packet of grains, a small container of something that his visor translated as 'fermented bacteria,' and plastic sealed package of what looked like round lumpy tubers. He'd pulled them out almost at random, remembering having seen various members of the human crew eat them early in the morning. But he didn't even know if she'd _like_ any of them._

_This was a terrible idea. It was oh two hundred zulu, and here he was, trying to fix an alien breakfast. How complicated could it be, he thought. He'd seen Gardner do it dozens of times. Of course he'd never really paid close attention, but he knew it involved a pan and the oven and some poking and prodding. He could do that._

_If he knew what he was doing in any way. Which he didn't. Hell, he could barely cook a _turian_ breakfast properly._

_Garrus sighed and was about to give up when he heard the elevator open and briefly paniced. It wasn't the first of the crew, it was too damn early for breakfast. It wasn't a shift change. Who-_

_Zaeed Massani meandered around the corner, yawning loudly. His ever-present armor was gone from the waist up, leaving only his tattoos and a faded green t-shirt that looked like he'd worn it every day for twenty years, which he probably had._

_He was halfway to the galley when he noticed Garrus standing there. He froze, and his good eye flashed. Garrus stood there, staring._

_"Vakarian."_

_"Massani."_

_"What are you doing here?" Zaeed asked suspiciously._

_"What are _you_ doing here?" Garrus shot back._

_"I asked first."_

_"I was _here_ first."_

_Zaeed saw the ingredients laid out on the table. He glanced around - the crew deck was completely empty._

_"Is this a trap?" He asked._

_Now Garrus was _very_ confused. "What?"_

_Zaeed caught his eye and sighed in relief. "Guess not." He pointed at the counter. "But then what in the hell are you doin'?"_

_Garrus shifted uncomfortably and grimaced, looking away. He was searching desperately for a good excuse - like hell was he going to confide in Zaeed Massani, of all people - but when he looked back Zaeed was smirking over crossed arms._

_"Yeah, alright," he said, nodding slowly. "I get it."_

_Garrus bristled, but Zaeed held up a hand. He glanced away, chewed on the inside of his scarred mouth. When he turned back, he was all business._

_"Tell you what, Vakarian," he said in his thickly accented voice, "I won't say shit if you don't."_

_"About what?" Garrus asked, eyes narrowed._

_Massani uncrossed his arms and sauntered over, grabbing the carton of eggs. "Get me a bowl," he said. "And pay attention, because this is the only guddam time I'm doin' this."_

_Zaeed Massani, with the precision and ease borne of skill and familiarity, slowly constructed a human breakfast. Scrambled eggs mixed with two different cheeses and a small amount of milk, sausages cooked just so with black pepper and spices, and something entirely different he called 'hash browns' that Garrus knew was beyond him when he saw easily they burnt._

_Zaeed almost looked happy as he worked, muttering about 'this takes me back' and chuckling to himself. Garrus actually heard him humming something before he caught himself and scowled._

_In the end, he handed Garrus a full plate of human food, which he took carefully with both hands._

_"Now get the hell out before someone sees that," he said brusquely. "Probably that fuckin' Chambers girl, with my luck."_

_Garrus stared at the plate in his hands, then back up at Massani. "Why the secret?" He asked._

_"Because I don't want to be cooking for a whole guddam ship 24/7," he said, turning away and beginning to prepare his own breakfast. "And then Gardner would put his boot up my ass and I'd have to kill him. Now leave and tell _no one_ where you got that."_

_He walked away. Before he hit the elevator, he turned back around. "Thanks," he said uncomfortably. Massani didn't even look up from the stove, just waved his arm and grunted something._

_Garrus didn't like owing Zaeed Massani anything. But he figured as long as he didn't tell anyone, he didn't. And, he thought with a smile, she'd get a decent breakfast for once._

_Mission accomplished._


	24. Saying Goodbye

He said not to ask questions, so I didn't. But that didn't mean I wasn't _full_ of them. Who was this Zaeed person? And the 'Chambers girl?' What was an old merc doing on board the Normandy? Was this the SR-1 or SR-2? Who was Garrus getting breakfast for?

I mean, I think I knew the answer to that last one. I had an inkling, anyway. But I knew I had to let him come to that in his own time, if at all. Because if I brought it up, and I was wrong?

Well, it didn't even bear thinking about.

So instead of putting my foot in my mouth, I put food in it instead. By the time I had finished, he had polished off his 'bachelor's breakfast' as well - he'd scraped along the inside of the egg's soft shell to get the last of whatever was inside it, and looked quite pleased as he disposed of the dishes in the sink.

"Uh, sir?" I asked. "Do you have a, uh, bathroom I could use? Rather not look like I just rolled out of bed. Even though I did."

Garrus thumbed over at a closed door on the other side of the kitchen, one I hadn't really bothered to notice before. I padded over (I had taken off my shoes long ago) and entered, closing the door behind me.

It was a tiny, clean, white bathroom. Figured it couldn't be the only one in the house - the shower was so damn small I doubted he could be at all comfortable in it. I searched around for a hairbrush, then realized that the only person who lived here didn't have any hair. Feeling like an idiot, I checked for some levo toothpaste - thankfully he had that much, and some disposable brushes. So he planned for _some_ guests, I supposed.

And there I was, little old Alisa Parasini, brushing my teeth in Primarch Vakarian's bathroom. By this point the whole thing had stopped seeming _quite_ so unbelievable to me, but I still grinned foolishly into the mirror. When I was finished, I ran my hands through my dark hair and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in my clothes, did my best not to feel self-conscious about my total lack of makeup, and took a few deep breaths as I leaned against the sink.

_Just don't think about last night, Alisa. Don't think about it, don't ask about it, don't read anything into it. Just let him talk._

I really hoped I could do that.

I stepped back out of the bathroom. Garrus had left the dishes to soak, and retaken the seat he'd had yesterday, next to me. He was leaning on his elbows, hands wrapped together and held in front of his mouth. He briefly took notice of me, then went back to staring at nothing in particular. I quickly took my seat, and switched to the new pad of paper - might as well separate the days easily.

He took a quiet, steadying breath, and then he spoke.

_Shepard sat across the comm room from them, elbows on her knees. Wrex, Liara, Tali, and Garrus sat all in a row. Kaidan wasn't there, or Pressly, or Chakwas. This wasn't a routine debriefing. But then, not much had been routine over the last few days._

_At first it didn't seem like she wanted to meet their eyes, but she did. She smiled, sad and proud. "You did it. Thanks in no small part to each of you, we accomplished our mission. Be proud."_

_Shepard's smile faded. She had put the mask on again, Garrus could tell. His mandibles twitched._

_"You are, all of you, a part of this ship," she said. "You have proven yourselves to this crew, and to me. I have been more than honored to serve with all of you." Shepard sighed and looked down. "If it were up to me, I'd keep all of you on." She looked back up. "But it's not up to me."_

_He felt his stomach turn. This wasn't a debriefing - this was a dismissal. Even though logically he should have known it was coming, it still caught him by surprise, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Neither did anyone else - he felt Tali stir next to him, and a faint twinge as Liara's biotic field tensed. Only Wrex was stoic, with crossed arms and level gaze._

_"I'm not asking you to stay, and I'm not telling you to leave," Shepard said quickly. "This is your decision to make, but not here, and not now. I won't have anyone make this choice lightly." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "The Reapers are still coming, and this ship and her crew will be the vanguard against them. If you choose to stay, you're choosing a committment of _years_, not days or months, and you'll be following not just Council orders, but Alliance as well."_

_Shepard looked at each of them in turn, meeting their eyes with hers, sharp and piercing. "I need you to know that this is what you want. I won't have any regrets. Not on this ship." She lowered her eyes again. "The Normandy undocks with the Citadel at oh eight hundred zulu time tomorrow. We're heading back to Earth, to make a report to the admiralty, and then we're off to the Traverse to monitor geth activity. We'll be back at the Citadel to report to the Council in exactly six months. If this is still what you want..."_

_Shepard looked up. "There will always be a place on the Normandy for you."_

_There was a silence as they took this in. Shepard stood. "I'll be in my cabin until we undock, if anyone needs to talk."_

_Then she turned and left, marching slowly out of the comm room. The rest of them sat there, considering her words. Garrus was once again impressed by Shepard's ability to both be fair to her crew and get what she wanted - she could have ordered them to leave, but they would have argued. She could have asked them to, and they would refused outright. But she hadn't - she'd made her point, and then handed the decision to them. And now Garrus, who just moments ago had been more than a little upset about having to leave the ship__, was considering... leaving the ship._

_Tali was the first to stand and leave the comm room. When he thought about it, this made the most sense for her - she had her pilgrimage to complete, and she was still young. Strong-willed though she may be, she needed some time to grasp the enormity of this committment._

_Liara was next. Garrus thought about her own motivations - she was young only by asari standards, six months was like the blink of an eye. She was also the leading expert on the protheans in the whole of the galaxy by now. Could she really do more good with that knowledge fighting on the frontlines? Or hell, maybe she was planning on joining a boot camp for six months and learning some proper soldiering to be ready when the Normandy redocked. He didn't know._

_That left Garrus and Wrex. Garrus was... conflicted. The Citadel had been hit hard by Sovereign, pieces of it's wreckage still littered the wards. C-Sec would need all the help they could get. Or he could apply for Spectre training himself, his father's wishes be damned, and be ready to fight alongside Shepard as more than just 'Officer Vakarian.'_

_Of course he already knew he'd be waiting at the dock six months from now, but he needed to consider how best to use the time that he had._

_He stood and moved to the door, but before he left, he turned back to Wrex. He hadn't moved, arms still crossed, staring at nothing. Sudden realization hit Garrus like a bolt of lightning._

_Of all of them, Wrex was the only one who had nothing to go back to._

_"Wrex?"_

_His eyes shifted and he seemed to realize he was alone in the room. Wrex stood and stomped over to the door, marching past Garrus._

_"You gonna talk to Shepard?"_

_Wrex stopped and turned, regarding him with one eye. His expression was unreadable. He grunted non-committally and walked off._

"Did you talk to her?" I asked cautiously.

He nodded, then hugged his elbows, scratching at the spurs. "We all did. Privately, of course." The plate above his brow lowered slightly. "Always wondered what she and Wrex talked about."

"What did she say to you? I mean, about Spectre training and C-Sec and all that."

His mandibles lowered into a small smile. "She said I should do what I thought was right. Not what she thought, or what my father thought. What _I_ thought."

I nodded slowly. "Which ended up being...?"

Garrus tilted his head and lounged back in his chair. "Both. Obviously."

He settled and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. I wrote, pen scratching on paper. When I looked up again, I saw him staring over at the bar. Longingly.

I swallowed. This might be overstepping, but... "Little early in the morning, isn't it?"

He sniffed loudly as he turned back to me. I saw that strange, fragile look in his eyes again before he looked away. "Yeah," he said, breathing out the word. "Let's move on."

_Tali had indeed been the first to leave once they'd docked. She'd said her goodbyes to everyone on the ship - she'd shook hands with Adams and gave Pressly a hug, who actually looked a bit misty eyed - and left to book passage back to the Flotilla. Before she left, she told Garrus that he was a reckless, stubborn bosh'tet and don't ever change._

_Liara cried a bit when she left. Shepard told her there'd always be a place for her on board the Normandy and Liara promised that when next they met, she'd be a better shot. She was headed off to Thessia, apparently, to try and organize more expeditions into prothean ruins at the University there._

_Wrex and Shepard barely said anything as he disembarked. No goodbye, no discussion of his plans, no promises to write or even if he'd be back here in six months. Just the usual._

_"Shepard," he said with a nod._

_"Wrex," she'd replied with a smile, lightly punching him in the shoulder._

_He'd grinned at her for a moment. And then he'd walked off without looking back._

_Which left Garrus._

_"So," Shepard said, turning to him. "See you in six months?"_

_Garrus couldn't help but grin. "What do you think?"_

_Shepard grinned back. She shifted her weight onto one hip and crossed her arms. "Don't know. Maybe you'll find you don't miss being shot at all the time."_

_"That doesn't sound like me," he said skeptically, narrowing his eyes._

_"You could realize a sudden passion for desk work."_

_"I'm sorry, have we met?" He rested a hand on his chest. "My name is Garrus Vakarian."_

_"I'm _sure_ you won't miss making smart-ass comments to your commanding officer."_

_"Now you're just being absurd."_

_Shepard chuckled. The moment passed, and was over. They stared at each other for a second before Garrus shifted, shrugging his shoulders._

_"I'll see you, Shepard."_

_She smiled and nodded, uncrossing her arms. "Yeah. Take care of yourself, Garrus."_

_She extended a hand. He shook it firmly._

_"I'll do my best to keep the Mako in one piece 'til you get back," Shepard said wryly as she turned away._

_"Treat her nice," Garrus called out to her retreating back. "Kaidan's not the miracle worker I am."_

_Shepard laughed, and Garrus reluctantly turned to the elevator. It would be a long ride down to the ward._

He sighed and closed his eyes. I waited for him to continue. I'd have touched his shoulder if I felt like that wasn't condescending in some weird way.

He opened them. "It would be poetic to say that was the last time I saw her. But it wouldn't be true."

_Garrus ran a hand over his head. "Another month?"_

_The salarian nodded, head bobbing up and down. "It's a particularly large piece of wreckage, we can't just yank it off the ward. The surrounding buildings would collapse."_

_Garrus stared out over the balcony at the massive piece of Sovereign. One of the massive 'legs' of the Reaper was laying there, numerous buildings crushed underneath it and collateral damage still patently visible, even from this distance._

_He always wondered where exactly the wreckage was being taken. That was far above his pay grade, of course. He just hoped it was somewhere safe. And isolated._

_"I'll tell Chellick," he said. "But he won't like it."_

_"If he wants to tell me how to get it out faster without causing further damage, I'd be glad to hear it." The salarian tapped away at his omni-tool. "I have to get back to work. Officer."_

_Garrus nodded as the salarian left. He sighed. Things had been damned tough over the last month. C-Sec had lost a lot of good people, and order had taken some time to restore. Even now, with things gradually returning to relative normalcy, Garrus had been working overtime just to keep up with his caseload. He couldn't deny that it felt good to be back, though. Not great, but good. Familiar._

_"Vakarian!"_

_Instinctively, he snapped to attention. Then he spun around._

_She was wearing civvies, he realized. The first time he'd ever seen her out of uniform. Brown leather coat with an N7 designation on the chest, her hands in the pockets. Thin black pants with a few extra pockets. Boots that seemed too small and didn't look particularly durable. Her red hair had gotten a bit longer and she had to tuck it behind her ears._

_But the eyes and the face and the grin plastered on her face were all exactly the same._

_"Shepard!" Garrus said, closing the distance between them. He stuck his arms out a little at his sides, fingers spread, hoping he was conveying how surprised he was. "What are you doing here? Where's the Normandy?"_

_"Shore leave," she said simply, pulling out a hand from her jacket and clapping him on the shoulder. "Crew had more than earned some, and Christmas is coming up. The Normandy's in bay two, most of the crew's shipping out on shuttles or transports."_

_Garrus blinked. "But not you?"_

_Shepard smiled wide. "Mom's gonna be here tomorrow, on the Orziba. I'll be aboard until the Normandy makes a rendezvous to pick me up. Since I was in the neighborhood, figured I'd come and bother you."_

_"I'm flattered," Garrus said, only half joking. "But I _am_ on duty."_

_"When do you get off?"_

_"I'm not sure I'm comfortable answering that, Commander."_

_Shepard grit her teeth and furrowed her brow but couldn't suppress her smile. "Off _duty_, Vakarian."_

_Garrus grinned, but then, he hadn't stopped grinning since he saw her. His mandibles were starting to hurt. "Four hours from now. There's a decent asari place near here, serves dextro and levo. I'll shoot you a message and meet you there."_

_"Alright," she said, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand as she walked past him. "It's a date."_

_The next four hours were some of the slowest in Garrus Vakarian's life. He did his best to stay focused. Fortunately, he didn't have anything else particularly pressing that day. Unfortunately, this meant he had ample time to constantly check the watch on his omni-tool._

_When the time finally rolled around, he practically stormed out of the station. He sent the message, then made a quick stop to pick something up. By the time he'd arrived at the restaurant, Shepard was already there, waiting in a booth with her jacket off. She was wearing a loose, long sleeved dark green blouse meant to complement her red hair. It was very surreal for him to see her outside of her armor or uniform, but it was still unmistakably Shepard - she was wearing boots instead of heels, and he had seen something the size of a pistol shift beneath the back of her jacket when she'd walked away._

_"About time," Shepard said indignantly. "I was about to start drinking without you."_

_"I would have been _so_ upset," he shot back, settling into the seat opposite her. "I didn't keep you waiting long, did I?"_

_Shepard shook her head. "Nah. Just got here. Nice place." She looked around. "Lots of wood and earth tones. Not really what I expected."_

_"Well, you have to imagine they get sick of blue after a while."_

_Shepard stifled a laugh, fist against her mouth. "That wasn't funny."_

_Garrus' mandibles flickered as he bit back his own amusement and cleared his throat. "No it wasn't."_

_"We should probably order."_

_"It _is_ a restaurant."_

_Shepard smirked at him. "God, were you really this much of a smart-ass back on the ship?"_

_Garrus grinned. "Only when I was in a _very_ good mood."_

_She gave him an appreciative look, then picked up the datapad in front of her and keyed through the menu. "Good to see you too, Vakarian."_

_Once they'd keyed in their orders, they started catching up._

_"How's C-Sec?" She asked._

_"It's good." He tilted his head his head a little. "Not 'chasing a rogue spectre with Shepard' good-"_

_"Obviously."_

_"-but good. Occasionally I actually feel like I make a difference. Caught a batarian slaver last week. He was trying to smuggle humans in cargo crates through customs." He sighed. "That was a good day."_

_Shepard nodded, resting her cheek on her hand. "Shot a bunch of geth the other day. Guess that was alright."_

_"Sounds fun."_

_Her expression turned a little. "I don't know, Garrus. Feels like I'm just spinning my wheels. The geth aren't the real threat."_

_"Hey, I'm not exactly tracking down Reapers over here, either." He leaned forward on his elbows. "We're both doing what we can. If there's one thing my father said that I agree with, it's that if you keep your senses sharp and your wits about you, an opportunity will always present itself."_

_Shepard sighed. "Just hope one presents itself soon." Before things got too serious, she forced a smile. "But you know me. I can make my own opportunities."_

_The food came quickly - turian wisp stew for him, and for her, some kind of meat, a clump of crumbly breadfood, and mashed white substance with some kind of thick liquid poured over the whole thing. He was often fascinated by levo food. It always smelled odd, like food, but not. It could look delicious, yet thoroughly unappetizing. Something about it just wasn't right._

_Garrus thought about how best to phrase his next words. "That's... a lot of food."_

_Shepard chuckled. "It's tradition. You always indulge around the holidays."_

_"You never struck me as the 'indulgent' type," he said conversationally, stirring his stew to cool it._

_"Very occasionally. Simple things, mostly. Food, drink." She smiled. "The Mako."_

_Garrus hummed through a bite of his stew and swallowed. "I still can't believe how you took to that thing."_

_"Me?" She poked her fork at him. "_You_ were the one glued to the damn thing so much you fell asleep inside it."_

_He shrugged. "You kept me busy with repairs."_

_"Like hell," she said mildly._

_A small pause while they both chewed their food. "I suppose we both ended up indulging quite a bit in the Mako," Garrus admitted._

_Shepard choked a little and looked up at him, amusement written all over her features. It took Garrus a moment to realize what he'd said. He groaned and placed a hand over his eyes while Shepard fought to both swallow her food and laugh._

_After Garrus had recovered from his crippling embarrassment, the meal continued. They talked idly about nothing in particular. Eventually things started to wind down and they were left with their drinks - hers a small glass of bourbon, his a turian wine. They both had places to be tomorrow, so neither ordered more than one._

_Shepard's eyebrows rose suddenly. "Oh! Shit, I almost forgot. Hey, hang on." She ducked underneath the booth and Garrus was left alone for a moment._

_"Uh-"_

_She returned with a long package wrapped in colorful paper. She set it on the table to her right. "From me to you."_

_His mandibles flared and his brow plate rose. "Shepard, you didn't have to - I mean -"_

_"What? It's Christmas." Shepard lightly pushed the red and green package closer to Garrus. "I can't spoil a friend on Christmas?"_

_Garrus almost objected a second time, but he caught himself. Refusing a gift from a commanding officer wasn't something he was in the habit of doing. Refusing one from a friend even less so._

_He tore open the paper and revealed a slick black case with a keypad positioned near the handle._

_"Code's 777," Shepard said, leaning back and smiling softly. "Might want to keep it in the case too, don't want to freak anyone out."_

_He keyed it open and the lid popped up with the telltale hiss of a pressure seal. Inside, collapsed and set in a recessed cavity and surrounded by form fitting foam, was perhaps the most beautiful rifle he had ever seen. Sleek and dark and deadly. He gasped without meaning to, and ran his hands along the length of it. He could know without even holding it that it was a masterwork, and probably cost more than he made in six months._

_"Figured you could use a replacement for that old Volkov," she said quietly. "Merry Christmas, big guy."_

_Garrus swallowed and shut the case, thoroughly overwhelmed and feeling awful. "Shepard-"_

_"Don't." She crossed her arms. "After the Council's last stipend I had more credits than I knew what to do with. Just take it and say thank you."_

_He laid his arms atop the case and sighed._

_"Thank you, Shepard."_

_"You're very welcome." She smiled._

_He smiled too, more desperately. "Well, now I'm going to look like an ass."_

_"I didn't expect anything, Garrus. That's not what the holiday is about."_

_"No, I know, but... you deserve better than I can afford."_

_She blinked. "Huh?"_

_Garrus wordlessly reached down, along the side of the booth where he'd set his bag when he came in. He pulled out a roughly wrapped and slightly torn present and cradled it in his hands._

_"I didn't have a lot of time, or money. I didn't know you'd be here, and I didn't know what else to get and I had no idea what I was doing with the paper-"_

_He held it out. It was round._

_"-but here."_

_Shepard looked somehow just as shocked as Garrus had felt. "Hey, you didn't have to-"_

_"Shepard." He gave her a look. They weren't going through this twice. Shepard visibly blushed and took the package. She made short work of his impromptu wrapping._

_She held it up and studied it. Turned it upside down and then right side up again._

_"I was told it was a traditional seasonal gift." He drummed his talons along the top of his case. "I, uh... wasn't lied to, was I?"_

_The false snow fell through the water, around a small model of a Mako tank driving across a snowbank._

_Shepard laughed and Garrus cringed. She met his eyes and cradled the snowglobe in her hands._

_"It's perfect."_

He went silent. The waves crashed against the beach outside. A cloud moved in front of the sun, and the light flowing in through the windows and the doors dimmed noticeably.

"A month later, she was dead."


	25. Loss and Pain

"I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news." His voice was steady, but the subtonals cracked a little, here and there. He kept talking, not allowing a silence to build. "I was in Shalta Ward."

_"You know how much paperwork you just created, Garrus?"_

_"Did you see another option?"_

_Sorono shook his head, mandibles flexing and smoke trailing from his mouth. His orange colony paint was bright against his darker skin. He reached up and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, gesturing with it as he walked. "Look, I'm just saying that it's one thing to discharge your weapon, it's another to discharge it into a suspect, and an entirely different thing to discharge with intent to frighten or coerce the suspect into discharging his own weapon into his foot. That's at least four more pages of reports, maybe more."_

_"So what you're saying is I should have shot him." Garrus nodded, satisfied. "Got it."_

"No,_ you stubborn-"_

_"No no, I read you. Message received."_

_"Yeah, well, fuck you too, Vakarian," he said mildly, replacing the cigarette. He stopped suddenly, looking past Garrus. "Hey. Isn't that your friend? The human?"_

_"What?" He turned to follow his gaze. On a large vid screen, with a small crowd surrounding it, was a red haired human woman with steely eyes. It was Shepard alright - a pretty awful picture, too._

_And beneath it, two dates._

"If I had any doubts, they were dispelled when I found Anderson waiting outside my apartment that night. Remember what I said about him? Heart sewn into his sleeve?" He ran a hand across his chin and tapped a knuckle against the bottom of his mandible. "All I had to do was look at his face and I knew."

The clouds deepened outside. It looked like it might rain. Not storm, just rain.

"I won't dwell on the funeral," he said, staring out toward the kitchen. "It wasn't like the second one. No weeping crowds, no pomp and circumstance. No statue. Just an empty casket and a flag draped over it."

His hand flexed, fingers rubbing together in front of his face. They moved slowly, but I saw the muscle and the tension. He might as well have been making a fist. "They held it on Earth. Stupid. She'd only ever been there a handful of times. What crew had survived the attack were there. Anderson. Her mother. Us.

"Wrex did the krogan thing. A moment of solemn respect for the dead, then twenty minutes of shouting and wrecking the place. Liara had to drag him outside and talk him down. Somehow she was the most together of all of us. Took it hard, but never shed a tear. Tali sat next to me and cried. Held my hand for most of it."

His hand dropped to the table and he started pressing one thumb against his other palm. His hands were always moving, but his eyes were steady, always forward, away from me.

"Kaidan looked... hollow. Like someone had scooped out whatever was inside and he was just a shell of a man. Didn't seem like he really believed it yet. And Joker?" He shook his head very slowly. "Joker was the worst of all. He was pale and sobbing through most of the service and looked like he was about to be sick at any moment. He was consumed with guilt, I heard later. Felt like it was his fault she died."

Garrus clasped his hands, laced his fingers together, and there was a noticeable vibration as he pressed hard. He sighed. "Never seen him look like that before. Or since."

He finally halted and closed his eyes. Gave himself a moment to breath. I took my chance.

"You've talked about everyone else," I said carefully. "How did you feel?"

He didn't open his eyes, and when he spoke, it was as steady as before, but edged with fury, diamond hard and bitterly sharp.

"How do you _think_ I felt."

He might as well have raised a hand to strike me. I visibly flinched and shrank away from him. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me or the memory or the galaxy at large, but it set me back on my heels. He had been angry to start, I hadn't forgotten, but once we had begun to talk he just seemed... sad. I figured that thirty years would have at least dulled the pain, especially after what I saw last night.

_You shouldn't have thought about that, Alisa. You assumed, and it bit you in the ass._

He opened his eyes. I swallowed any words that might have threatened to come out my mouth. His voice had lost it's fury, but it still carried a brittle, jagged edge. It was only enhanced by his flanging tones.

"Shepard made an impact on everyone she met. For a few, she'd done more than that. She'd become a part of us, a fixture, and when she died there was a hole that we couldn't fill." He raised his laced hands in front of his mouth again, leaning on his elbows. "Not that we didn't try. I certainly did. I threw myself into my work, but all it did was make the hole larger. Everything that frustrated me before, made me furious after she died. And _so much _frustrated me."

His jaw clenched and I heard his teeth click together. "The only reason I pulled out of Spectre training and tendered a resignation to C-Sec was so no one would come looking for me when I left. I went anywhere. Everywhere. And when one day I ended up on Omega, I looked around and knew that this was the place where I would die.

"Initially, I was content just to pit myself against the underworld, alone and unafraid. It's freeing, in a way, to be concerned only with your own survival. Living day to day, hour to hour. No complications, no time for introspection or solipsism. Eventually, though, they came to me. Men and women who were tired of being beaten down by Omega. Who wanted to fight back. I _should_ have refused, I knew it then just as much as I know it now. But I didn't. And I let my guard down. I let them get close. And in my weaker moments, I thought of Shepard."

His voice gradually began to crack, breaking against the force of his pain like water on rock.

"I tried to do without her. I tried to forget her. Finally, I tried to become her. In the end..." He gasped and exhaled a slow, shaky breath. "I failed at all three."

The first drops of a summer shower hit the window. The pitter-patter of raindrops mingled with the crashing of the waves. In the dim light, his blue eyes looked an almost cloudy gray.


	26. The Return

It was so hard to look at him, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb, dull talons pressing hard into his thick skin as he closed his eyes. I couldn't tell if he was furious, or miserable. Maybe both. He hadn't yet shed a tear, but I wasn't sure turians could even cry. At least not like humans did.

For a couple minutes, all he did was take slow, deep breaths. I said nothing. I wouldn't dare. The light rain plinked against the windows and the deck and the tropical flora outside.

While I waited, I tried to form a better picture of Garrus Vakarian in my mind. For all that I'd seen, or rather all that he'd let me see, I realized he had not truly bared his soul to me. For every twitch or movement, every press of his hands and flare of his mandibles, there was something more that he kept under tight control. The pain and loss he felt then, and still felt now, was powerful. But he was stronger, and though I felt it had come close, it had not broken him. Not in front of _me_, anyway.

I wondered how long he had buried these old memories and tried not think about them. I wondered if he had truly opened up to anyone since the war ended. I wondered if he would ever let himself go, cry or sob or howl with rage, even alone. I didn't know. I doubted if I would ever know.

But I had only what he deigned to give me. If it was not the whole of it, the entirety of the story, or the entirety of _him_, it didn't matter. It was his to share, not mine to take. I had known that since I set foot on this island.

So as his hand fell from his face and his eyes opened once again, I came to peace with the idea that the reality of all that he went through would never really be known. Not by me, or anyone else in the galaxy. Perhaps that was as it should be. Some things, whether good or bad, belonged to no one but him.

When he spoke, I wrote only what he told me.

"I was dead, and I knew it. I had three of the biggest mercenary organizations in the Terminus Systems surrounding me and I couldn't last forever. I had a highly defensible position, and plenty of heat sinks, but no food, no water, and no time to rest. I expected to be dead within a day."

Garrus breathed in and out, mandibles flaring as the air blew out his mouth. "I lasted almost a week."

My eyes widened and I heard myself speak. "How?"

He turned and met my eyes for the first time in a long while. His were big and blue and completely unreadable.

"If there was one thing that Shepard and I had in common," he said, voice flanging quietly, "it's that we were both very, very stubborn."

_"I'll fight for my life-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-I'll fight without pause-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-and when my time comes-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-I'll die for the cause."_

_His visor blared the turian anthem into his ear as it highlighted the next wave of targets charging over the barricade. So far, they'd been content to just try and wear him down with numbers, freelancers and hired guns mostly, occasionally mechs and once a gunship. He'd gotten lucky with that one, hit something vital that made it fall back. Garrus sincerely doubted he would be that lucky again._

_For right now, though, he might as well be at a shooting range._

_"I'll give my life freely-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-to defend rights and laws-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-for it is my honor-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-to die for the cause."_

_He hummed along with the non-vocal section as he waited for the next poor son of a bitch to stick his head over the barricade. He felt bad for the freelancers, in as much as he felt bad for anyone who raised a gun against him. Some of them probably hadn't even done anything, just grabbed a gun and tried to make some credits to feed themselves for another week._

_But all the same, when one popped his head out to try and take a shot, he painted the wall behind him an ugly red._

_"Now my duty is clear-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-not to live without flaws-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-but to serve something greater-"_

_Aim. Fire. Hit. Reload._

_"-and die for the cause."_

_Garrus finally ducked behind the balcony railing, the large pile of red hot smoking heat sinks next to him soothing in it's warmth. He had run out of stims a while ago. He was getting tired. Hence the music. When that stopped working, he'd switch to something more aggressive. Expel 10 maybe._

_And when that stopped working?_

_He briefly considered eating his own gun, but that wasn't him. Garrus Vakarian didn't stop fighting until he was dead. They would have to climb all the way up those stairs and put a bullet in him. Wear themselves out a little. It was only fair. __Or hell, maybe listening to the anthem had gotten him feeling particularly turian today. Nothing honorable in a selfish suicide. You die for the _cause_, not to save yourself some suffering._

_He glanced up over the railing. They were readying for another charge. Fantastic. Maybe he'd try and time the shots to the beat of the drums this time._

"I won't lie - when she stormed up and over that barricade, I thought I had finally lost it." Garrus leaned back and stared at the ceiling again, his fringe resting on the back of his collar. "Figured that the lack of sleep had finally broken me, and now I was seeing ghosts. Thought Saren would show up next, or maybe Ash.

"But I noticed things. Differences between what I was seeing in front of me and what I saw whenever I closed my eyes." He flexed his mandibles up and down curiously. "I suppose it's odd that I could think through it so rationally. Once a cop, always a cop, I guess."

He reached up and scratched at his tattoos. I started to think he did this whenever he was anxious or excited. "She was wearing new armor, for one thing. She had current weaponry, swappable heat sinks rather than the old built-in cooling units we'd had back on the SR-1. She had a new scar on her left cheek. If she was a hallucination, she was a vivid, and particularly creative hallucination. And I was never particularly concerned with plausibility when I dreamt of her before.

"That's when I realized she had a crew with her - a pair of humans wearing Cerberus colors. I wondered why exactly my mind would be hallucinating _that,_ too. So with all this evidence stacking up, I decided to test my sanity with a concussive round, and when it dropped her shields and she looked up at me, I caught her eyes and I knew."

Garrus dropped his head and looked at me, and he smiled in a desperate sort of way.

"It was Shepard. I didn't know how or why or what she was doing there, but it was _Shepard._ And if I hadn't been so exhausted, mentally and physically, I might have broken down the moment I pulled off my helmet and she said my name."

He laughed a little, breathlessly. "Instead, I acted like it was just another day at the races. She needled me about taking a shot at her, and I gave her some bullshit line about not wanting to draw suspicion and her taking her sweet time. For a second I thought I was dead, and the best fantasy my brain could conjure up as I bled out on a rooftop in Omega was talking shit with Shepard one last time."

Garrus sighed softly. "But then the mercs started attacking in proper force, and she signaled to her crew the same way she always did before she took cover beside me and I decided that I didn't care _what_ was really happening, because whatever it was, it was perfect."

"Well." He turned to face me fully. He reached up and tugged on his right mandible, faded scars still craggy. "Until the gunship showed up and I took a rocket to the face."


	27. Like Old Times

"I don't remember much after that," he said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "I remember three things in particular: the image of the rocket flying towards me, knowing I failed to dive out of the way in time. A sudden shocking burst of consciousness, sucking in air and exhaling blood, groping for my gun."

Garrus' mandibles raised slightly, lowered, swept side to side. Almost swiveled entirely. "Shepard shouting my name. Could barely hear her past the blood rushing through my ears, ringing and half-deaf from the explosion. But I did."

He took a breath. Not quite a sigh, but close. "Next thing I remember is Chakwas standing over me in the medbay telling me to keep still. I was exhausted and groggy from painkillers, and I should have had a thousand questions for her - what was going on, where was I, what was she doing here, why was the Cerberus logo plastered all over everything."

He smiled softly as he met my eyes. Whatever pain had been there before had subsided, and I was thoroughly grateful. "I think at this point you can guess the one question I _did_ ask."

_"Where's Shepard?"_

_Chakwas braced her hands against the pauldrons of his armor. "Garrus, lay down for god's sake-"_

_Garrus shoved her hands away and turned, dangling his legs off the side of the bed. His face hurt like holy hell, the parts that he could still feel anyway, but that didn't matter. What mattered was he needed to see her. He was overcome with the need to be _certain_ she was alive, real, standing in front of him._

_"Doctor," he said, wincing as he felt his right mandible shoot pain up and across his face. He had to speak carefully. "I swear to all the spirits that if you don't tell me where she is, I'll tear this damn bandage off."_

_She got a particularly ugly look in her eye, but she backed off and crossed her arms. If he weren't so focused on his goal, he would have made a mental note of how to break the unbreakable Chakwas._

_"The elevator's where it always was," she said, voice clipped and disapproving. "Take a left out of the CIC, go through another door to the armory, then another left."_

_Garrus didn't stop to thank her, didn't stop even to pick up his rifle which had somehow found it's way into the medbay. Just followed her directions to the letter. He didn't notice how much bigger the ship was, didn't care about the terrorist symbols stenciled onto the walls, and didn't spare a glance for any of the crewmen he passed._

_Well, the elevator was faster. He toke note of that._

_But once he passed through the doors, saw Shepard push herself up from the conference table she was leaning against and meet his eyes, knew finally and for certain that he was not dead and this was not a dream and she was _alive...

_He didn't care. Whatever was going on, he could deal with it. Because there she was, and here he was, and it was time for the Shepard and Vakarian Show to resume after it's long hiatus._

"I want you to guess what I said."

I looked up at him curiously. He was giving me a strange smile.

"Uh. Sir?"

"The very first thing I said to Shepard. Well," he rolled his eyes and waved dismissively, rambling quickly, "the first thing I said when I saw her on Omega was 'I thought you were dead' and the first thing she said was something like 'what the fuck are you doing here.' I'm talking about the first thing I said when we were back on board the Normandy."

"Sir, I..." My mouth moved up and down, but words wouldn't come out. I could probably guess, but I was no good when someone put me on the spot like that.

"Come on, Alisa," he said, nudging my shoulder playfully. "I think you've listened to me talk long to guess."

"Uh..." I hissed in a breath and winced. "Bullshit?"

Garrus' mandibles flared wide, and then clacked softly against his face.

"Bingo."

_"Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?" He asked playfully, pointing at his face as he advanced into the room. He hadn't even had to think. It just spilled out, like it always seemed to when he was around her._

_He didn't fail to notice the relief evident around her eyes when he first entered. It faded, and it's place rose those piercing eyes with the dancing light that meant she was about to say something particularly droll._

_"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice."_

_Garrus had to laugh - dead for two years, back again, and he nearly dies in her arms, and what's the first thing they do? Talk shit like nothing's changed._

_And oh sweet spirits, for just one moment, it's like nothing ever did._

_Then pain stabbed through his jaw again and he groaned. "Ohh, don't make me laugh, _damn_ it, my face is barely holding together as it is." Garrus couldn't help but try and get her back - he stepped forward a little and adopted a thoughtful tone, glancing off to the side. "Though some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are krogan."_

_Shepard laughed lightly and shook her head. Victory was his._

_A well-built human in Cerberus armor he hadn't even taken notice of saluted her. She nodded at him, and so dismissed, he promptly left. Once they were alone and the door was shut, Garrus pulled himself back and took a firm hold of reality._

_"Frankly, Shepard, I'm more worried about you. Cerberus. Not exactly upright citizens."_

_"That's why I'm glad you're here, Garrus." She walked up closer. "If I'm walking into hell-" He caught her pointed glance up a corner of the ceiling. Camera, maybe. "-I want someone I trust at my side."_

_Comprehension dawned. Shepard was surrounded on all sides by people she didn't know, wearing the colors of a militant terrorist organization whose resources or assistance she simply could not refuse. Whatever her goal was, it surely involved the Reapers. It was the only thing that made sense, the only threat that he could think of that would put her in a position like this._

_She needed someone she could count on. Badly._

_"You realize this plan has me walking into hell too?" Garrus said sardonically, shifting his weight onto one hip and tilting his head. Then he sighed, softly, knowing that Shepard wouldn't really know how much his next words meant._

_"Just like old times."_

He leaned back and sighed. "It wasn't, really."

His eyes glanced to me, my expression curious.

"Like old times, I mean," he said by way of explanation. "The crew was still new to us, so we were both far more wary and uncomfortable than we'd ever been aboard the SR-1. Had to be, with Cerberus surveillance bugs damn near everywhere. With the sole exception, so far as Shepard had yet determined, of the crew's quarters.

"So, once she sent me back to Chakwas to make sure my face wasn't about to fall apart, she showed me to my quarters on the lower decks. Small and cramped, barely enough room spread your arms out without touching the walls, but she came in with me and paced as much as she could as she explained, in brief, what had happened to her."

He shrugged. "Only because I wouldn't stop asking."

_"So that's it? Just a few billion credits and you can bring someone back from the dead?"_

_"Apparently." She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall, bracing one foot against the bulkhead. Garrus sat on the edge of his small bed. They were so close, he could reach out and touch her if he wanted. For some reason (shock or painkillers were the most likely explanations) he had to fight not to. "I'm still not a hundred percent sure how. Just know that I'm as much machine now as anything else."_

_Something in her eyes gave Garrus the impression that it bothered her. A lot._

_"Well." He shrugged. "You look good."_

_Shepard huffed and rolled her eyes. "Thanks."_

_"Apart from the scars, of course." He raised a finger to his left cheek. "At least red is your color."_

_Shepard narrowed her eyes and feigned anger. "Oh, so on me scars _aren't_ attractive?"_

_"I didn't say that," he replied mildly._

_"No, I think you just did," she shot back skeptically._

_"It came out wrong."_

_"Obviously."_

_"I meant to say that you don't wear them as well as Wrex did."_

_"So you're saying you had a thing for Wrex."  
><em>

_His brow plate rose. "You're saying you didn't?"_

_Shepard laughed, far longer than that ludicrous comment deserved, and Garrus felt his chest warm. She brought a thumb up to her eyes and brushed them out, then looked down at him and smiled._

_"God, it's good to see you again," she said._

_"Yeah." Garrus stared up at her, mandibles tight against his face. "It's been a while."_

_She held her smile, but he felt the air tighten around them. They would have to have a long talk about her death eventually. Right now, it didn't seem like either of them was up for it._

_"Get some rest," she said, nodding to the bed and heading for the door. "The main battery will still be there when you wake up."_

_"Will you?"_

_She stopped dead in her tracks and Garrus realized he'd actually said that out loud. He immediately averted his eyes. He would have apologized but he'd suddenly lost his voice. The painkillers must have been affecting him more strongly than he thought._

_Shepard turned and he couldn't help but look. Her jaw was tight, her mouth a thin line, and her eyes were full of... not pity, but sympathy. Worry, maybe._

_"I'm not going anywhere, Garrus."_

_He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak anymore. She let her look linger, then let herself out, the door sliding shut behind her._

_Garrus flopped back onto his bed, and before he could really consider much of any of what she'd just told him, exhaustion reared it's head and blackness closed in around his vision._

_For the first time in a long time, he slept an empty, dreamless sleep._


	28. Typical Shepard

"I woke up about eight hours later and realized I'd slept in my armor. Every joint was stiff, I had a kink in my neck, and my face felt like someone had tried to take it apart with a chisel." He grinned. "But that was good. I would have gone to see Chakwas if it were numb."

Garrus stroked the scarred side of his mandible with a finger. "Instead l made it up to the main battery. And this time, I took note of the crew that I passed on the way. All human, all in Cerberus colors. They gave me a wide berth, but no one gave me any dirty looks, so at least they were professionals.

"First thing I did was sweep the whole damn room for bugs. There were quite a few, far more than was necessary, but if there was anything the Illusive Man was, it was thorough. They shorted out easily enough. I had just gotten started with the important business of calibrating the main gun when Shepard walked in."

_Garrus turned as the door hissed open. Shepard had a gun in her hand and a smile on her face._

_"Found yourself another Mako I see."_

_He laughed, then winced and raised a hand to his face. "At least I don't have to worry about you crashing the guns."_

_A mock sneer slid across her face. "Left this in the medbay," she explained, holding up his rifle. "Cleaned it for you. The rocket barely scratched it."_

_"How fortunate," he deadpanned, accepting the weapon. Then, more sincerely, "Thank you."_

_Shepard shrugged it off and he went to lay the rifle on the workbench on the starboard wall of the battery._

_"Figured I should fill you in on everything, now that you're up." He turned back to her and she was leaning back against the console, facing the door._

_"I got the jist of it," he said, closing the distance between them and leaning next to her. Something in him wanted to keep her close. He wasn't sure why. "Cerberus brings you back from the dead using copious amounts of genetic reconstruction and cybernetics, offers you a ship and a crew and resources, and you have to accept because..." He paused and keyed the door shut. "Reapers?"_

_"Collectors, actually. Abducting whole human colonies. Hence Cerberus' motivation." Shepard brushed some of her red hair back behind an ear. "Alliance and the Council are just sitting on their hands. No matter how much I think that putting a bullet in the Illusive Man would be doing the galaxy a favor, right now, he's the only one willing and able to give me what I need."_

_"Collectors." He hummed. "Always thought they were a myth. Something old freighter pilots told their kids."_

_"I've got video footage if you want proof."_

_"No need. I trust you." Shepard graced him with a particularly appreciative smile. Garrus shrugged it off the same way she did, then smiled humorlessly. "Besides, I'm sure I'll see one in person before too long."_

_Shepard huffed. "Yeah, probably."_

_"You tried contacting the Citadel?"_

_She nodded. "Didn't get anywhere. Anderson says he's setting up a meeting, but apparently the god damn Council still doesn't believe the Reapers exist. Even though they've just finished cleaning up the remnants of one that scattered across the fucking wards."_

_Shepard sighed angrily and Garrus' mandibles flickered. "I was still there when they said it was a 'highly advanced geth warship.' Disgusting."_

_"That why you left?"_

_"That, and other things." He grimaced as much as his half-broken face could allow. "So much just... made me angry."_

_She looked up and found his eyes. "You seemed fine the last time we spoke."_

_"I was." Garrus found he couldn't look at her for very long. "Things changed."_

_There was a tense silence that Shepard broke before too long._

_"I keep forgetting it's been two years."_

_He looked again. She was staring at the door, and the scarring on her cheek was still red, almost glowing beneath the skin. Cybernetics, probably._

_Garrus wondered if this was the moment where they'd talk about her death. But Shepard pushed herself away from the console and made for the door, and he knew it would wait for another day._

_"I'll let you work," she said._

_"Shepard," he called before the door closed. She turned halfway. "Thanks. For coming down, I mean."_

_A small smile tugged at her lips. "You know me. I'm chatty."_

_He grinned. "Yeah. Well, I'll be down here if you need me, Shepard."_

_She turned and left, the door closed behind her, and Garrus breathed out a sigh. The pain in his face had dulled when she was here, and returned full force when she left. He turned back to his console. Maybe calibrating a giant gun would distract him._

"Now, the thing you have to understand about calibrating the main gun of a frigate is that-"

"Sir?"

He turned, his hands held still in the air in front of him, a little startled that I'd interrupted.

"Is this really important?"

He blinked. Then he cleared his throat.

"I suppose not." He sniffed. "Let's move on."

_Garrus had decided to take a tour of the ship. For all intents and purposes, it was simply a larger, more advanced Normandy, but it still felt foreign. He felt like he had to familiarize himself with the place, get to know it if he was ever going to comfortable._

_Comfortable aboard a Cerberus vessel. Crazy._

_But, he kept reminding himself, this was no Cerberus ship. This was _Shepard's_ ship, even if no one aboard but him knew it yet._

_He headed into the armory, thinking about taking apart a Viper and seeing how it ticked, and almost ran into the armored Cerberus human from before. Jacob, he thought._

_"'Sorry," the man said with a nod, stepping around him. He was loaded for bear, numerous weapons strapped to his back. Garrus turned back to the armory and found the curvy female human (Miranda, the one who'd headed Shepard's resurrection project) and Shepard herself, still choosing their respective weapons._

_"Shepard, what's going on?"_

_"Still have business on Omega," she said, clipping on a munitions pack to her bicep. "Got to pick up a merc and bring in a doctor."_

_Garrus blinked. "You didn't tell me you were leaving."_

_"You would have wanted to come," she said simply._

_"Damn right. I know Omega better than you-"_

_"You're still not a hundred percent and while I know the merc population on Omega isn't the brightest, it wouldn't take too many brain cells to figure out who you are." Shepard wouldn't meet his eyes, just took apart her rifle to check it's firing chamber. "Besides, word is there's some plague in the lower levels that's killing non-humans."_

_"I'll wear a helmet," he shot back._

_"Sorry, Garrus," she said, slapping the rifle's stock back into place. "Promise we won't linger around the markets too long."_

_He shook his head and stalked forward to grab a rifle. "If you really think I'm letting you go back there without me-"_

_"Garrus."_

_The tenor of her voice made him freeze, hand on a Vindicator battle rifle. He met her gaze, diamond hard eyes and furrowed brow and jaw like steel. She had gone full-on Commander Shepard._

_"Don't."_

_He would have backed off, if this were the SR-1. Would have apologized and retreated to the Mako and stayed there until Shepard came back and traded shots with him about his shoddy worksmanship to let him know that they were still okay._

_But Garrus wasn't that man anymore._

_"Give me a good reason."_

_Shepard blinked. The rest of her face didn't move, but she blinked. She hadn't expected that. She glanced to the side, and Garrus followed her - Miranda had finished equipping her weapons and simply leaned against one of the workbenches, arms crossed and watching the two of them with that calculating expression on her face._

_Shepard turned away and collapsed her rifle again, throwing it over her shoulder and onto her back. Then, without warning, she closed the distance between them, got within inches, and reached up and flicked the scarred side of his face. He visibly winced, subtonals growling as he raised a three fingered hand to his face._

_She grimaced and despite the furrowed brow, she almost looked apologetic. "That's my reason."_

_Then, under her breath, quiet enough that Miranda might not have heard:_

_"I'm not about to lose you."_

_Shepard quickly sidled around Garrus and nodded to her XO. She followed her out, not bothering to glance back at him._

_Garrus stood in the middle of the armory until the pain faded from where she touched him. Then he went over to a bench, pulled out a stool, and settled in. He began the lengthy process of disassembling and cleaning the armory's many guns._

_It would go a lot slower without Ash here to help him._

He grew quiet, staring down at his hands. The rain continued unabated outside, staining the sandy beach a muddy brown.

"I was so blinded by my own need to be near her, protect her, keep her from dying on me again, that I didn't even consider her own feelings."

"It's understandable," I said, surprised at my audacity. "You were worried."

"And what do you think she was?" He said mildly, looking up and scratching at his scarred mandible. "The first friend she really had aboard that ship, the one person she knew she could trust, and he wanted to rush right out to the place he'd nearly died and take them all on again.

"I wanted to stay close, and she wanted to push me away." He smiled softly. "That was Shepard all over."


	29. Camaraderie

"I cleaned every damn gun in that armory, and she still wasn't back by the time I was done." He scratched at his palms. Old nervous habits resurfacing? "Ended up heading up to the cockpit to just stare out at Omega and wait for her like a child."

He shook his head. "At least I finally met our pilot."

_"What's up, G-Man?"_

_Garrus startled. That was about the only voice that could have plucked him from his reverie, staring out the cockpit at the hard lines and ugly, patched together network of towers and struts that was Omega._

_"Joker?"_

_He spun in his chair, larger and visibly more comfortable than it had been on the SR-1._

_"In the flesh," he said, tipping his cap. "You okay? You don't look so good. I mean, apart from your face."_

_Garrus didn't want to talk about it. "What are you doing here? On a Cerberus ship?"_

_Joker shrugged and shifted in his seat, averting his eyes. "Got reassigned after the Normandy went down. Practically grounded. Wasn't doing any good for anyone. They came to me, told me about the colonies, told me they needed me to pilot a ship. Said no, of course. It's fucking _Cerberus_. But... then they told me about Shepard."_

_Garrus nodded slowly. "Yeah. I understand."_

_"Think they wanted someone around who would be able to tell if she was still... her. You know?"_

_"Is she?"_

_Joker gave him a weird look. "What do _you_ think?"_

_Garrus chuckled dryly. "Right. Same here."_

_Joker spun his chair back around to face forward. Omega loomed before them._

_"You know, she was all on edge before she ran into you."_

_He blinked. "Huh?"_

_Joker pointed over to the right side of the cockpit, to the empty co-pilot's chair. "She spent a lot of time up here. Think she needed to be around someone she knew."_

_"Well." Garrus squeezed his elbows. "Shepard... isn't in a great place right now."_

_Joker rolled his eyes. Garrus didn't see it, but he could tell. "Yeah. No shit."_

_They stared out the window. Garrus wondered if he could see where his friends died from here._

_"This damn ship doesn't have a bar, does it?"_

_Joker turned and grinned. "Doubt they've got anything dextro."_

_Garrus sighed heavily. "Just my luck."_

_"Hey, could be worse," Joker said, turning back to face forward. "You could be the designated driver."_

_There was a pause. Before Garrus let the conversation drop, he had to ask._

_"This ship bother you as much as it does me?"_

_"What, you mean the AI?" He scoffed. "Absolutely."_

_"No, it's..." Garrus gestured vaguely with one hand. "It's the Normandy, but not the Normandy. It's too big, too comfortable, too well lit. It's not... it doesn't feel right."_

_Joker sneered and looked skeptical, staring out at the ramshackle towers of Omega. "Hey, I knew the old girl better than anyone. Take it from me, my half-faced friend, this is my baby, _better_ than new." He turned to Garrus with a more reassuring expression. "We got our Commander, we got our ship. Give it some time, G. Things'll be alright."_

_"You really believe that?"_

_"Have to," he said with a shrug. "If I don't, what's the point?"_

_Garrus didn't say anything. Joker turned back around. Omega's too-thin artificial atmosphere was thick with smoke and haze. Garrus tried not to think of where Shepard was right now. What she was doing. Who was trying to kill her._

_He walked over and levered himself into the co-pilot's seat. "Joker?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"You're still not funny."_

_"And you've still got a stick up your ass."_

_They let the silence build comfortably around them, friendly and companionable, until she returned._

"I feel like I do Joker a disservice by not talking about him much. He was a big part of that crew." He smirked, big and wide. "Not sure I'd say he was the 'heart' of the Normandy. I can think of more appropriate organs."

I looked up from my pad and tried not to laugh. "Was he close with Shepard?"

His eyes moved to the wall above the bar. "Well, I don't know if I'd say that. He'd served with her the longest, apart from Anderson, but Joker wasn't really the kind of friend who you had a ton of heart-to-heart conversations with. Though, as you should have figured out by now, he could say a lot without saying much of anything."

He smiled. I tried to follow his gaze and found the picture with Mr. Moreau, arm thrown around Garrus' neck and placing an SR-2 baseball cap on his head.

"He kept her grounded, and she kept him focused. They were a good pair, even if sometimes it seemed otherwise. And he was a good man." Garrus chuckled quietly, making a thrumming or rumbling sort of noise. "Sorry. Still is, I should say."

"He's on Tiptree, isn't he?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah." He reached up and brushed a hand across the top of his head. "I'm sure Joker would say that was a... what's it called? A Froodian slip?"

I grinned and bit back another laugh. "Freudian."

He shrugged it off. "Whatever. Let's just move on before I make a further ass of myself."

_When the airlock doors hissed open, Garrus startled and pulled himself out of his chair. He hadn't been looking at the docking pylon, or the windowed corridor to the portside airlock. He'd stopped waiting for Shepard to return some time ago, instead content to stare down the pockmarked ramshackle edifice that was Omega._

_It was a strange moment of closure, sitting there and knowing that odds are he'd never set foot in that place again. Never see his team again. Never be able to recover their bodies, probably picked clean of valuables by scavangers and blown out an airlock by now, if they weren't just left to rot where they fell. He'd sat there and said quiet goodbyes to each of them, the ones who didn't live long enough to die in his arms when he found them. And then he'd just sat there and stared at the damned asteroid until it no longer meant anything to him. No longer angered him or saddened him or scared him. He had stared until it was just another place, just another den of inequity he'd stumbled into in a haze of fury and self-righteousness in the two years since Shepard's death._

_Shepard._

_There she was, stepping through the airlock again, accompanied by her two Cerberus crew, an old scarred merc, and a salarian whose eyes seemed to take in everything around him with a practiced ease._

_"Jacob, Miranda, show Dr. Solus to the comm room," Shepard said, casual authority firmly in place. "I'd like to brief him in a few minutes."_

_Miranda nodded, Jacob saluted, and Dr. Solus (Mordin Solus, he remembered) followed after them, eyes still taking everything in. He didn't miss much, Garrus could tell. Local rumor had it that he was ex-STG. The way the salarian carried himself, he could believe it._

_Shepard turned to the old merc Garrus had never seen before. Scarred face and one bad eye, thinning brown hair just beginning to go grey, and corded muscle beneath battered old armor._

_"Zaeed, take the elevator down to the cargo bay." Shepard sneered, just a little, and only for a moment. "Make sure the dock workers don't steal anything."_

_Zaeed sneered right back, but in an approving sort of way. "Smarter than you look, Shepard," he said, turning away and heading back towards the CIC._

_When everyone was gone, Shepard blew out a breath and started to pull her gauntlets off, shifting her weight comfortably onto one hip. The way she acted, you'd think she'd just been out running errands._

_"Dock workers?" Garrus asked, leaning against the bulkhead and lacing his fingers together, the picture of nonchalance. Not at all how he felt, seeing her again._

_"Sorry to keep you waiting." Shepard smiled easily as she pulled off the other gauntlet, looking up to meet his eyes. "Stopped by the markets after we picked up the good doctor, picked up some supplies. Crew had a list of things. Food, parts, armor. And something for you, too."_

_His brow plate rose substantially. "Me?"_

_"It's not much," she said, holding both gauntlets in one hand and letting her arms hang easy at her sides. "Just some proper dextro rations. Gardner doesn't know the first thing about turian food, but we'll pick some up when we get to the Citadel. For now, it's better than the dual chiral crap Cerberus provided."_

_His mandibles flared a bit. Was this her trying to make up for not taking him with? Or was this just Shepard considering the needs of her people, same as always?_

_Hell. Not like it mattered. He was grateful all the same._

_"I'd thank you, but you'd just shrug it off, wouldn't you."_

_Shepard grinned and shrugged. "You ruined my plan. Thought you'd be down in the battery, elbow deep in calibrations, and I could surprise you with a decent cup of kava."_

_"Nah," Joker said, spinning in his chair and inserting himself into the conversation. "He decided to stick up here with me, see how the other half lives. It was a laugh a minute."_

_"A veritable whirlwind of excitement," Garrus deadpanned._

_"I'm sure." Shepard began to turn away, then halted. Something in her stance seemed to change. "Oh, and Joker?"_

_Joker dented his fingers. "Hmm?"_

_Shepard reached behind her waist and pulled a collapsible datapad from a pouch on her lower back. She stomped past Garrus and loomed over Joker, pointing it at him threateningly._

_"If I had known what this was, I would never have agreed to buy it for you."_

_She practically threw it against his chest, and Joker was clearly working hard to both conceal his amusement and look totally innocent._

_"You ask me to do something like that again, you're sleeping in the airlock."_

_She turned and walked off. Joker expanded the datapad and keyed it on. It said 'FORNAX' across the top in bold lettering._

_"Hey, this is _last_ month's issue, what am I supposed to do with-" He looked up and Shepard was extending her middle finger over her shoulder. "-oh come on!"_

_Garrus laughed, and despite the pain in his face, he kept it up for a while._

He took a deep breath, shaking his head as he exhaled.

"It wasn't easy, that particular period of my life. The last week before I met her, I had been betrayed by a friend, lost my entire team, and holed myself up in a tower fighting for my life for days without rest. Then Shepard shows up, like thunder out of a clear blue sky, and I get to doubt my sanity for a few minutes before I top the whole thing off with a nice near-death experience."

He leaned back and looked at me, raising a finger up to his eye, scarred side. "When I wake up, I get this for my trouble, and the ship I'm on is too nostalgic for it's own good, both too familiar and far too different. Meanwhile, I'm struggling with the knowledge that Shepard is alive. I keep fighting off the urge to follow her when she leaves a room, or reach out and touch her just to make sure she's solid. Our conversations are eerily comfortable until the moment that they're not, as we do an awkward dance around the subject of her death and my emotional baggage. And then she up and leaves the ship without me to head back to the place where I just lost everything I had, _again._"

He turned away and took another deep breath. This time when he turned back he gave me a neutral look, with a glint of amusement in his eye and a dry tone to his flanging voice.

"It was a _little bit_ stressful."

I made a show of writing down the word 'STRESSFUL' and underlining it three times. I didn't know if he could read english, but he grinned all the same.

"But I'm glad I ended up sitting in that cockpit. Said my goodbyes to that hellhole of an asteroid. Saw that moment when she walked in, all casual confidence and camaraderie. Watched her get the last laugh on Joker."

Garrus stood and went over to the bar. His head kept rising from the drink he was making, and I saw him grinning at the picture of Mr. Moreau on the wall again.

"It made me think that maybe he was right," he said, voice raised so I could hear him. "That things could be, _would_ be alright again."


	30. An Unexpected Guest

Garrus sauntered back from the bar, a small drink in his hand and an honest smile on his face. "Don't try and tell me it's too early. It's been a while, and I think I've earned a drink."

I was surprised at how easy it was to smile back. "Of course. I guess you earned the right to drink whenever you wanted a long time ago."

As he eased back into his chair, he sighed contentedly. The set of his shoulders and the arch of his back told me he was genuinely lounging, as opposed to just putting on a show to make me wait for him to continue.

"Not that strong, anyway," he said, taking a sip of the thin blue liquid. "Pleasant memories coming up. Good mixed in with the bad, like it always is. Don't want to be tipsy for those."

I murmured my understanding and I took a drink of water, feeling more comfortable than I had since I walked through the door. I didn't have to interrupt him as much anymore. I didn't have to prompt him for information. I didn't have to try so hard to read all his expressions to figure out what he was thinking. Meanwhile, it felt like he was being a bit more open with me. Not much, but enough that I felt less like an intruder.

He stared at the glass in my hand and shook his head. "Spirits alive, where are my manners," he said quietly, holding out a three-fingered hand with short, dull talons. I handed him my glass and he stood again.

"Don't suppose you want anything stronger than water?" He asked conversationally.

I considered my options. I realized I didn't know them. "Do you have anything but liquor in there?"

"I _think_ I have some salarian tea." He knelt down to open a cabinet. "If that's more your speed-"

_Beep boop bip._

His head shot up to look at the door. My eyes followed his as best they could. I was just out of line of sight of the foyer. When I looked back to him, he was staring at me with an almost accusatory look in his eye, but before I could even think about stammering out a denial he blinked and it was gone. He glanced back and forth between me and the door, nodded almost apologetically, and then stood up to answer it.

It chimed again - _beep boop bip_ - and then there was a knocking before he keyed the door controls. I couldn't see who it was, could barely see his back from where I sat, and for some reason standing up and getting a better look felt nosy. I was very keen to avoid anything even remotely like eavesdropping after last night.

I did hear Garrus' voice though.

"Oh, _shit._"

I tense immediately. Is it an old enemy, back for revenge? From his C-Sec days, or back on Omega? Does he even have any enemies left alive? There were still whispers of Cerberus on the extranet, but no one really knew for sure.

But there was something about the tone he used that was... resigned. Or disappointed.

"Well, _that's_ nice," a gravelly, throaty voice answered back. "Good to see you too."

I exhaled the breath I had been holding. Okay, we weren't both about to die. But who was that?

Garrus rested his hands on his hips and bowed his head. I could tell, because his sharp fringe pointed into the air.

"You forgot," the other voice said, a statement and not a question. It was hard to tell from a distance, especially with how rough it was, but it sounded like it was... flanging. "Well. That's a new one from you."

Garrus sighed and shook his head. "Sorry."

"You at least gonna let me in out of the rain while you get ready?"

His head popped up, startled. "Uh. Yeah, of course." Garrus stepped back and re-entered the living room proper. "But I can't go. Busy with something."

"Busy? The hell you got to be busy with?" The other voice asked, confused.

"It's, erm. Personal. Look, let me at least get you a drink for your trouble," he said, heading for the bar.

Another turian walked in behind him, leisurely shifting his weight step by step, taloned thumbs hooked on his hips and what looked like a jacket hanging loose and unworn through the hole between his arm and his body. Darker skin and more elaborate orange colony markings, plates on his face worn and dulled, not quite as silvery as the Primarch's, and a shorter fringe that upon further inspection actually looked like it had broken near the tip. His clothes were workmanlike, different than Garrus'. Looser with more pockets, earth tones rather than blues and whites, and simple, muddy boots.

He froze the second he saw me, amber eyes sizing me up. I felt startlingly self-conscious all of a sudden, with no make-up and clothes that probably still looked like they had been slept in.

"Garrus," he said, prompting an explanation.

"Hm?" He turned from the drink he was mixing. "Oh, uh." His mandibles twitched awkwardly. "Alisa, Sorono. Sorono, Alisa."

I waved nervously. He kept staring at me with an odd look on his face.

"Uh _huh._" His rough voice plus the flanging turian harmonics were an odd coupling. "So you're here because...?"

"Alisa Parasini, sir," I said, standing up with the pad of paper in my hands. "I'm writing a book about Shepard. I've been talking to the Primarch about her."

"Since yesterday," Garrus added casually, placing his hand over the now filled tumbler and shaking it, a few stray drops making it past his palm.

Sorono rasped out a laugh. "I don't believe it," he growled. "You. Finally talkin' to the rest of the galaxy."

Garrus said nothing. He finished shaking the glass and turned, extending his hand. Sorono (_that name is familiar_) took it from him, humming his thanks as he moved for a seat.

"Wait a second!" I piped up, recognition sudden and forceful in my mind. I grabbed the pad of paper from the previous day, flipped through the pages, scanning quickly until I found it.

I pointed triumphantly at Sorono. "You were in C-Sec!"

Sorono held his arms out, one with his drink in his hand, the other with his jacket still hung over it, and took a little stage bow. "Guilty as charged."

"Partners, once," Garrus said, settling back in his seat. Sorono threw his jacket over another chair and planted himself in the one opposite Garrus, taking a big swig of his strangely fizzy drink. He leaned back after he swallowed, flanging voice sighing like sandpaper, and if Garrus had looked like a master of lounging, Sorono looked like he'd invented it.

"Old war buddies too," Sorono added, throwing his arm over the back of his seat. "Ran a lot of clean up ops after the war ended. This was back when he used to _work_ for a living."

"You're one to talk," Garrus retorted. "How's the reconstruction business?"

"Booming." He raised his glass and extended an accusatory finger. "But I'm not sitting on the beach."

Garrus smirked and took a sip of his own drink. Sorono let his amber eyes roam over to me, then back to his friend. "Don't let me stop you. Keep doin' what you're doin'."

The Primarch's mandibles twitched uncomfortably. "It's fine."

Sorono's eyes narrowed and his brow plate lowered. "Come on. I never got to hear any of this shit 'cept what you said back on Menae."

Garrus sighed. "It's not something I can talk about with just anyone."

"Really?" His mandibles twitched side to side, and he started to reach for something in his jacket. "So some little human girl you barely know-" He raised his free hand. palm out. "-no offense ma'am-"

"None taken."

"-is someone you can talk to, but not your old friend of over thirty years."

He raised a hand and rubbed at his brow plate. "We weren't exactly _close,_ Sor."

"Clearly." He pulled out, of all things, a pack of cigarettes. "You mind?"

"Yes," Garrus replied mildly.

"Good, thanks," he said, voice muffled as he held a cigarette in the upside down V-shape of his mouth. He raised his left hand and his omni-tool flared, lighting it. He inhaled, flexed out his mandibles, and exhaled smoke through the sides of his mouth. I had been wondering how his voice got the way it did, since every other turian I'd ever met had a particularly smooth and harmonic timbre. Now I knew.

"I'm not doing this, Sorono."

The orange-painted turian plucked the cigarette from his mouth with his finger and thumb and squinted at him. "You know I thought about bringing Kal with me. Now I'm glad I didn't. Old bastard would have been insulted by this."

Garrus perked up, brow plate rising. "Kallus is planetside?"

Sorono hummed an assent, taking another drag. "Social call, or so he said. I didn't ask."

The Primarch seemed to consider this, eyes flickering to the table.

"Feel like I should call someone."

"Forget it." He drained the last of his drink and then flicked the ash on his cigarette into the empty tumbler. "He's well on his way by now."

His eyes narrowed. "Anyone I know?"

"Like I said." Sorono's eyes seemed to focus. He gave Garrus a significant look that I had no clue how to decipher. "I didn't ask."

Garrus chewed on this for a minute, staring down at the table. He didn't look worried, exactly, but he seemed... bothered? Annoyed? I couldn't tell. I was _completely_ out of my depth on this one, but I got the distinct feeling that whatever I was missing out on was serious enough to not want to go near.

While Garrus brooded, Sorono turned back to me.

"So, Parasini was it?" He smiled, easy and unguarded. "What has he told you so far? Anything good?"

I hesitated and glanced to Garrus, whose head jerked up from the table. "Sor-"

"Come on, I'm just wondering what she was like." He took another drag and gestured vaguely with the cigarette. "There was a time long ago when you wouldn't shut up about her."

Garrus said nothing, and gave him a withering glare. If it had been directed at me, I might have melted on the spot. Sorono didn't seem to care one way or the other. In fact, he seemed a little irritated.

"Sweet spirits, Vakarian, it's been thirty years-"

He slammed his hand down on the table. Not angry, not particularly forcefully, but suddenly and without warning. I all but jumped out of my seat. Sorono just froze in place and met his eyes. For a moment they were two predatory statues, bristling at each other. Then, the raspy voiced turian moved, leaned in on his elbows, smoke trailing from the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Thirty years, and I have to wait for the fuckin' book to come out."

Garrus actually averted his eyes. Slowly, Sorono nodded.

"Yeah. I get it."

Garrus grit his teeth. "Sor-"

"No. It's fine." He took one more drag off his cigarette, then dropped it into his empty tumbler. "Guess I've got no reason to be here."

He stood slowly, pulled his jacket off the chair and threw it over his shoulder. He looked at me, entirely neutral. "Was nice to meet you, ma'am."

I nodded quickly, nervously, hands clasped tightly beneath the table. Sorono spared one last glance at Garrus before he turned and walked out. The door hissed open, then hissed close.

Garrus growled something under his breath that my translator didn't catch. He looked at me, then down at the table. Then he pushed himself up.

"For fuck's sake, Sorono," I heard him say as he took long strides to the door. He keyed it open and ran out. It didn't close.

This time, I was too curious. I wouldn't get close, wouldn't do anything like eavesdropping, but I did stand up and walk over so I could see out the open door. The other turian hadn't gotten far - meandering slowly down the path to the garage, he'd made it about fifty feet from the door before Garrus caught up to him. He closed the distance, put his hands on his hips, and looked thoroughly uncomfortable. I didn't need to hear him to know he was apologizing, or at least admitting some level of fault, I wasn't entirely sure how far their friendship went. Sorono's body language was entirely unreadable, cloaked as it was in that almost lethargic ease that I imagined must be his defining characteristic. I had thought that Garrus kept his true feelings hidden, but Sorono? He must have been one hell of a cop.

After a minute or so of quiet conversation, with a bit of helpless gesturing from the Primarch and a shrug from Sorono, they turned back to the house. Garrus seemed deflated a bit, and Sorono seemed more chipper as they made their way back through the post-rain mist. They keyed shut the door behind them.

"What's up?" I found myself asking.

Garrus sighed wearily and shook his head while Sorono grinned widely. "He gets one story and then he's gone." He raised a single finger. "_One._"


	31. Turius Interruptus

I sat leaning over the table, half turned toward him. My pen was poised over my pad of paper. My long and messy hair fell into my eyes and I brushed it back behind an ear as I silently chided myself for not getting a haircut before coming here.

Garrus was stoic, arms crossed and feet planted firmly on the ground. His eyes were filled with cold blue fire, his jaw set like stone, his mandibles tight against his face. He was statuesque. Imposing. Regal.

Sorono slumped in the chair across from him, smoke trailing from the cigarette dangling from his mouth. If you ignored his eyes, he looked like he was about to fall asleep.

"Well?" He rasped.

Garrus sighed and scratched the bridge of his nose. He sniffed.

"Alright. One story."

"One _good_ story."

His eyes narrowed. "Fine."

_He hadn't taken a meal with the crew since he'd been aboard. Initially, he hadn't wanted to make trouble for Shepard by strutting around like he owned the place, but after she had gotten him those rations, he'd done an about-face on that particular notion. He held on to what he'd thought before - this was _her_ ship, not Cerberus', and the rest of the crew were just going to have to get used to it._

_So he planted himself firmly in a seat as close to the center of the open-air mess as he could, and dared anyone to sit near him. He expected much the same treatment Wrex had gotten back on the SR-1. Everyone would just wait until he was gone to take their meal, or skip it entirely. He wasn't too surprised when they didn't - turians weren't as nearly large or intimidating as krogan - but he _was_ surprised when some met his eyes, nodded at him companionably, or even engaged him in conversation. Most didn't, of course. They kept their distance, maybe stole the occasional glance, but the few that did made an impression._

_Donnelly had asked him if he played poker, said he was trying to get a game going among the crew and was positively ebullient when Garrus told him he'd played back on the SR-1. Gardner was fascinated by turian cuisine, and seemed to take the idea of making food he couldn't taste as a personal challenge. And while Chambers seemed far too interested in every monosyllabic answer he gave to her incessant questions, at least she seemed nice._

_Garrus still didn't trust any of them farther than he could throw them. But he thought that he could throw a few of them pretty damned far._

_He was almost at ease when Shepard walked in._

_Gardner rose from his own meal to serve his commander. She tried to brush him off, but he wouldn't have any of it - 'it may not be glamorous,' he said, 'but it's my job, ma'am. I take it seriously.' Shepard sneered and Garrus could tell she was biting her tongue as the mess sergeant served her meal, some kind of stew or soup. She quickly thanked him and took the seat across from Garrus._

_"Vakarian."_

_"Shepard."_

_"Making friends?"_

_"Team building," he corrected._

_"That's nice." She grimaced as she took a bite of her food._

_"Enjoying your lunch?" He asked with a smile._

_"We'll get to the Citadel soon, Gardner," she said, raising her voice as she stared down into her bowl. "Clearly it's the ingredients that are the problem."_

_"Clearly, commander," Gardner replied wryly from two tables over._

_"I'm enjoying my rations, thank you very much."_

_"You're welcome." Shepard looked up and met his eyes for the first time since she entered the mess hall. "Feeling better?"_

_Garrus scratched lightly at the stiff bandage across his jaw. "Still hurts, but not so bad. Chakwas says it'll feel better before too long, and once the bandage is off I'll have full mobility again."_

_She stared at him for a moment, then nodded and took another bite. "Good."_

_They ate silently for a handful of seconds._

_"You weren't asking about the face, were you."_

_"Nope."_

_Garrus looked down at his rations, poked them idly with his slim turian fork. He grit his teeth and said quietly, "I was out of line. I'm sorry."_

_"You weren't." He looked up and found her staring at him again. "I'm sorry too."_

_Garrus really didn't know what to do with that, so he shrugged nervously. "It's your show, Shepard. It won't happen again."_

_"But you know why I made that call."_

_He nodded, and a tension left her that he hadn't noticed until it was gone, and her shoulders settled a little. Shepard immediately changed the subject.__  
><em>

_"You know I ran into Tali on Freedom's Progress."_

_Garrus started, just a little. "No."_

_"Yeah." Shepard smiled, a little pride seeping in. "Leading a team of her own."_

_"Our little quarian all grown up." He chuckled around a mouthful of freeze-dried breadfood. "I'll be damned."_

_"Offered her a spot, of course-"_

_"Of course."_

_"-but she said she had something keeping her occupied. Something important."_

_Garrus widened his mandibles in disbelief. "More important than this?"_

More important than you?_ is what he intended to say, but he checked himself before the word was out._

_Shepard shrugged, poking at her food. "Must be. Maybe we'll pick her up when she's finished. Long as you don't intend to make trouble."_

_"Me?" He said innocently._

_"Don't play." Shepard smirked knowingly. "You two could really get at each other's throats."_

_His mandibles flexed out and in. "Only a couple of times."_

_"That I know of."_

_Now it was his turn to smirk. "True."_

_She chuckled. The conversation drifted to more mundane topics, gun maintanence, requisition orders, then to trivialities and old war stories. The banter flowed back and forth between them as easily as it ever had, but in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about what she'd said earlier._

_'I'm sorry too.'_

_Garrus had been a little surprised that what happened in the armory had weighed more heavily on her mind than on his. He had figured they were okay, at least they were on _his_ end, but Shepard had wanted to make certain. Needed to make sure she hadn't alienated the only other connection to her old life she had aboard this surreal ship._

_She should know by know that such a thing was impossible. He was here when she needed him. That was the beginning and the end of it._

_"Hey Shepard." She looked up. "Remember that time when-"_

_Suddenly, the ceiling caved in. A whole mess of krogan mercenaries fell through the hole, piling almost on top of each other. The Cerberus crew fled the mess like cowards, leaving only Shepard and Garrus._

_"Give us your women!" The krogan shouted in unison._

_Shepard raised her tiny fists to fight, but Garrus pushed her behind him. "Don't worry, Shepard," he said proudly. "I've got this."_

_It was a bloody battle, up and down the crew deck, punches and kicks and claws and talons and a fair amount of biting. In the end, Garrus sat relaxed upon a pile of krogan corpses, and Shepard ran up and clung to his leg._

_"Oh Garrus," she said, "your fringe is _so_ sharp!"_

_He looked down and winked. "I know."_

I stared at what I'd written. It didn't seem quite right for some reason.

I looked up and found Sorono with what I could only think of as a 'shit-eating grin' on his face, and Garrus glowering at him with the full force of all his years.

"What?" Sorono said with a shrug. "It was an improvement."

There was a quiver in his mandibles. "One story."

"One _good_ story," he corrected, tamping out another cigarette from his soft pack. "That was hardly good. You had lunch with a woman and talked. Don't know if this is some special moment in _your_ life, Vakarian, but it's happened to me plenty of times."

Garrus sneered. "Har dee har har."

"I'm serious. Where was the excitement? The passion? The _verve?"_

"This is my life, Sor," the Primarch shot back, leaning his head against a fist. "Not one of your asari telenovelas."

Sorono lit up using his omni-tool once again and smiled in a weirdly crooked sort of way for a turian. "Hey, _Maiden to Matriarch_ is a powerful story of love and loss."

Garrus shook his head and seemed to ease. I got the idea that this particular insulting back and forth was treading old ground. "Every day for twenty two years."

"I'm invested," he protested, waving his cigarette. "I have to see how it ends."

"You'll be _dead_ before it ends."

Sorono threw an arm over the back of his chair again, turning to stare off into space. He forced a stoic expression and spoke solemnly. "We all gotta go sometime."

Garrus actually chuckled and I almost couldn't believe how sharp the mood swung around these two. Something that came with thirty years of back and forth, I guessed.

"Alright, Sor," he said, leaning forward. "You want action? I'll give you action."


	32. Not Good Enough

_Purgatory was hell. Or as close as it could come to it._

_Supermax security for the galaxy's worst criminals, privately owned and operated. If there was ever a recipe for a bad night's sleep, it was stepping onto this damned ship. The inmates, the guards, the prison itself. It was all bad._

_Even so, Garrus couldn't help but admire just how secure the place was. Cells stacked high in giant cargo bays and pulled out with retractable cranes, mass effect field generators ready to lock into stasis any inmates who got out of hand, guards on every door and every window and every corridor and catwalk, all armed and armored. He wondered if anyone had ever managed to escape in anything but a body bag._

_Shepard could not have cared less. She was here for a prisoner, and all she wanted was to get him and get out. She'd made that clear to the warden, a barefaced and particularly craggy turian named Kuril, who met them at the docking port. He'd wanted to take their weapons before they entered. Shepard wouldn't allow it, of course ('I'll relinquish one bullet. Where do you want it?') but even though he'd backed down, Kuril had made his play clear._

_As a general rule, turians were bad at disguising intent, and far worse at lying. After the brief tour that Kuril gave them, it was more than obvious to Garrus that he was planning to betray them. Shepard must have felt the same way. At least that was the vibe he was getting - she was flexing her hands at her sides and her hard eyes examined every guard they walked past. Zaeed, for his part, seemed just as wary. But Garrus got the idea that he _always_ expected a knife in the back._

_On their way to the prisoner processing wing, they ended up walking past an interrogation in progress, in the ugliest sense of the word. Another guard watched outside the cell through thick glass, looking bored._

_"No one walks away from torture unchanged. Not the subject, not the torturer himself." Zaeed sniffed and squinted his good eye. "Never found torture worth the price, myself."_

_"You don't even get good information that way," Garrus mumbled. "After a point, victims admit to anything to make the pain stop."_

_And that was the last straw for Shepard. She walked up alongside the other guard, engaged him in conversation about the prisoner. The words 'no more than he deserves' were uttered. She turned her head and met the guard's eyes under his helmet, whispered something to him that Garrus couldn't hear but fully understood. The guard looked shocked, the gun in his hands twitched upward towards her chest just a little. Shepard didn't blink. If anything, her eyes seemed to harden._

_He promptly ordered his partner to call it off. Shepard stalked off without a backward glance, Garrus and Zaeed on her heels._

_It was only another minute before they were in processing, and about thirty seconds more before they opened the door they had been directed to and revealed their destination._

_"My apologies, Shepard, but you are more valuable as a prisoner than a customer," Kuril's plain and mild voice piped in over the staticy intercom. "Drop your weapons and proceed into this open cell. You will not be harmed."_

_Shepard and Garrus shared a knowing look. When she turned back towards where she came, she actually smiled and shook her head as she drew the gun from her back. "You know, Kuril, there was a moment there where I thought that you couldn't possibly be this fucking stupid."_

_"A whole moment. You _are_ naive, Shepard," Zaeed drawled mildly, drawing his own weapon as Kuril's voice called for their heads through the intercom._

_"How many guards you count on your way in?" Garrus asked, shouldering his rifle._

_"Fifty three," Shepard replied as she moved up alongside the door to the main corridor. "Didn't count the mechs."_

_"Think we can make it to cryo before they all come down on us?"_

_Shepard, as always, signaled for her squad to follow while she took point. Garrus saw the fire in her eyes just before she keyed open the door. "Let's find out."_

"So let me see if I've got this right."

"Take your time." Garrus crossed his arms and slouched backward. "I know how hard following a simple narrative can be for you."

Sorono brushed away the comment and smoke billowed off to the side. "You, Shepard, and some old one-eyed merc against an entire prison ship full of corrupt guards and some barefaced shitkicker looking for a payday."

"Mmhmm," Garrus mumbled in affirmative as he took another sip of his drink. Sorono leaned forward onto the table, flicked the ash from his cigarette into his empty glass, and smiled.

"Not bad," he said, gravelly voice flanging as he chuckled dryly. "Not _good_, but not bad."

"Haven't gotten to the good part yet."

"Oh?" Sorono feigned disinterest, examining the lit end of the smoke in his hands. "And what's that?"

"To break our prisoner out of cryo, we had to break _everyone_ out."

He looked up and blinked slowly. "So you, Shepard, and some old one-eyed merc against an entire prison ship full of corrupt guards and some barefaced shitkicker looking for a payday, _plus_ hundreds of the galaxy's most vicious criminals?"

"On a ship that was falling apart."

Sorono sneered and rubbed at his eyes. "Okay, I'll bite. Why was the ship falling apart?"

Garrus smirked. "Because of who we broke out of cryo."

_Jack hadn't been out of her restraints for more than a minute before alarms were sounding all across the ship. She'd torn apart the heavy mechs that tried to stop her, blew open any door or bulkhead in her path, and tossed aside anyone who got in her way. She hadn't even bothered to pick up a gun. Not that she needed one._

_Shepard and her team were following in her wake, always one room behind, slowed down by guards and inmates that Jack hadn't bothered to kill. At least she was easy to find - just follow the screams._

_They were almost to the docking bay when they ran into Kuril, gunning down inmates attempting to make it past him to the Normandy. He hefted his gun with ease, an old model Revenant that downed the unarmored, unshielded convicts with a single shot apiece. Shepard went for cover behind a support strut Jack had already brought down on her way through, Kuril's shot grazing her shields._

_"You're valuable, Shepard," he shouted breathlessly. "I could have sold you and lived like a king!"_

_Shepard signaled Garrus - _flank right._ She blindfired to keep Kuril's attention on her while he moved. Kuril had positioned himself in front of the door, up on a platform in a corner of the room. He had the high ground, but they had plenty of cover to work with._

_"But you're just too much trouble!" Kuril keyed his omni-tool, and three pylons raised on each corner of the platform. External shield generators. "At least I'll be able to recapture Jack."_

_"Not happening." Shepard popped up and fired, rounds bouncing off the center generator. It quickly overloaded and the shield weakened. Kuril fired back, but Shepard was already in cover. Zaeed took the opportunity to shift left, making his way towards the wall. "I don't have time to deal with two-bit slave traders," she shouted._

_"I do the hard things civil governments are unwilling to!" Kuril's rationalization provided Shepard enough time to signal to her team - _fire on my mark._ "This is for the good of the galaxy!"_

_She gave the word. They rose and fired. Zaeed took out the second generator, Garrus the third. The shield dropped, and as Kuril spun to try and fire at each of them in turn, Shepard angled her gun just over the strut and fired until it smoked and overheated. She had cover. He didn't. Her shields held. His didn't._

_They made their way past the warden's bloody corpse and into the docking bay. Jack was throwing a fit, yelling and snarling at the window. The Normandy was docked just beyond, it's Cerberus affiliation made plain by the symbols on the wings._

_Shepard fired a round past her and into an advancing batarian guard. As he dropped to the ground, Jack spun and her biotics flared._

_Jack was a mess. She was thin and wiry, all muscle and bone. From the waist down, a well-worn prison orange jumpsuit, with heavy boots. From the waist up, naked, but for some kind of harness or straps across her chest. It looked handmade, whatever it was. Her skin was covered in ink, tattoos up and down her chest, stomach, arms, fingers, hands, and neck. Her face was untouched and bare, with a shaved head and too-big lips. Garrus found it hard to guess the age of other species, but she couldn't have been more than twenty five, if that._

_"What the hell do you want?" She barked after Shepard holstered her weapon._

_"You're in a bad situation, and I'm getting you out of it."_

_"Shit, you sound like a pussy," Jack said, sounding disappointed as she paced in front of the group like an anxious varren. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You're Cerberus." She spat the word like a curse._

_Shepard thumbed over her shoulder. "Look at who I'm with. I seem like I'm in deep with Cerberus to you?"_

_"With them, for them, I don't care. You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me somewhere. You think I'm stupid?"_

_"Yes."_

_Jack bared her teeth._

_"This ship is going down in flames. I've got the only way out. I'm offering to take you with me." She scowled. "And you're arguing."_

_"Just shoot her in the leg," Zaeed said, hand on his pistol. "Patch her up back on the ship."_

_Jack's eyes narrowed and her biotics flared again. "I'd like to see you try."_

_Shepard shook her head. "Stow your weapon, Zaeed."_

_"Good move." Jack stalked forward and the blue around her dimmed slightly. "You want me on that piece of shit? Make it worth my while."_

_"Name your price."_

_"You've got access to all kinds of Cerberus databases. I want them. I want info on _me_."_

_Shepard nodded. "Done."_

_Jack didn't seem to expect such a quick agreement. She blinked, then stuck a glowing blue finger at Shepard's face. "You better be straight with me."_

_Neither woman blinked. Jack lowered her hand and her biotic glow faded. She glanced around, first at Garrus, then at Zaeed._

_"So why the fuck are we still standing here?"_

"I don't think I've ever heard of this person before," I said, pausing to shake out my wrist and take a drink of water.

Garrus flared his mandibles and grinned at me. "Yeah, well. Jack's not big on fame and glory. Taken her a long time to even get comfortable being around people again, let alone being thought of as some kind of war hero."

"She still alive?" Sorono asked, taking a drag.

He nodded. "Still teaching, I think. Some biotic academy or another."

Sorono leaned forward and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. His brow plate wiggled up and down. "Is she single?"

I sputtered water out my nose. I devolved into a coughing fit and Garrus' grin shifted into a smirk as he pat my back. "I would give every credit I have to see you try and talk to her."

"I have my charms."

"You'd be dead inside of thirty seconds."

Now Sorono was smirking. "You underestimate me."

"Yeah. Make it forty five."

"Better." He leaned back and placed the smoke back in his mouth. "Now, you were saying?"

The old Primarch shook his head. "One story, Sor."

"One _good_ story," he mumbled with his mouth closed.

Garrus' eyes narrowed. "I think it's time to define what qualifies as 'good.'"

The raspy voiced turian slouched in his seat, crossed his legs, and placed his hands behind his head. "Just keep talking and I'll let you know when you get there."

Garrus sighed and glanced to me. I had recovered enough to pick up my pen again. He chewed on his tongue for a moment, then crossed his arms.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled quietly, and then he continued.


	33. Fragility

"Jack made herself at home in the belly of the ship, beneath engineering. Just a terminal, an old desk, some crates, and a fold-up cot. She rarely ventured into the rest of the ship those first few weeks. I almost never saw her. Shepard did, though. Kept wandering down to her hideaway and trying to engage with her. Draw her out a little, or at least understand her. They were never close, but she got comfortable on that ship eventually. Took a while, though. A lot longer than anyone else.

"She took her out on our next stop, some nothing planet called Korlus to pick up an old krogan warlord named Okeer. I didn't get to go on that one. Shepard wanted to give Jack an outlet and see how she would react to her command, and since it was a Blue Suns hideout, she wanted Massani along too. Said he had some history with that particular organization."

Garrus' eyes grew wistful. "And unlike before, Shepard told me in advance. Let me whine about it in private."

_"I'll never like it, Shepard."_

_"You don't have to," she said, hands behind her back as she stood in front of the door to the main battery. "Long as you understand my reasons."_

_He nodded and rubbed his elbow. "Yeah. Thanks for... taking the time. I know I should just deal with it, but-"_

_"It's okay." Shepard looked away for a moment before she met his eyes. "I understand."_

No you don't,_ he thought. _But that's alright. I don't either.

_For the first time in days, he had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her before she left. He couldn't blame it on shock or painkillers anymore, so instead he chose not to think about it._

"You know what's funny?" He shook his head, a strange expression on his face that I couldn't place. "I wasn't even that anxious. At least, not like before. Things had moved far enough past Omega by that point, and seeing her in action again had certainly helped. She hadn't even broken a sweat aboard the Purgatory.

"Of course it still ended up with me spending some time stewing in the cockpit with Joker." He smiled softly. "But this time I had a hot cup of kava in my hands."

_"That stuff will kill you, you know."_

_Garrus turned, almost choking on his kava. Shepard stood smiling behind him, out of armor and back in her officer's uniform. Black, white and gold. Cerberus colors were all anyone got aboard the ship, unless they brought their own clothing._

_"Funny." He grinned, far more out of relief than humor. "You were the one who bought it, anyway."_

_"Didn't think you'd tear through half the supply so quickly." She wandered up across from him and leaned back against the archway leading into the cockpit. "What, you afraid to go to sleep?"_

_He didn't want to tell her that for a couple days after Omega, he was._

_"You'd rather I drank that dual chiral tea?" He grimaced, mandibles tilting upward ever so slightly. "I wouldn't give that to a varren."_

_She didn't smirk, but she might as well have with the look in her eye. "There's also a thing called 'water,' Garrus."_

_"Again, funny."_

_"That's _my_ thing," Joker piped up, spinning his chair around. "Stop stepping on my toes."_

_"Right," Shepard said, crossing her arms. "Flight Lieutenant and Ship's Jester."_

_"And don't you forget it." He crossed his legs and leaned back. "So where's our new krogan?"_

_"Dead."_

_Garrus froze in mid-sip. Joker blinked. "Wow, already? Thought people were supposed to die _during_ a suicide mission."_

_Shepard shook her head. "Okeer saved what was left of his work rather than himself. It's sitting in the portside cargo hold."_

_"What is it?" Garrus asked._

_She smiled and it didn't reach her eyes. "The perfect krogan warrior."_

_Understanding dawned. "A tank grown, huh?" She nodded, and Garrus hummed thoughtfully. "Could be unstable."_

_"Ran into a few of those planetside. Even spoke with one. They were sentient, but programmed. Gene and nerve therapies, and nothing more." She scowled for a moment. "Okeer had offered them as target practice for Blue Suns' recruits in exchange for their resources."_

_"Sounds like real father of the year material," Joker deadpanned._

_"So what about his 'super soldier?'" Garrus asked. "Planning on waking him up?"_

_Shepard shrugged, staring at the floor. "Way I see it, we need all the help we can get."_

_Joker's eyes lit up and he clasped his hands together. "You're gonna be a mommy! Oh look at you, you're glowing!"_

_She sneered at him as Garrus downed the last of his kava. "I'll go with."_

_"No. I'll handle it."_

_"You'll handle a genetically engineered six hundred pound krogan soldier?"_

_Now she broke out into a smirk as she turned to leave. "I handled Wrex, didn't I?"_

_Garrus couldn't exactly argue with that, and he sighed in defeat. "Come find me in the battery afterward so I know you're okay."_

_"If I'm not there in five minutes, the ship is yours, Garrus," she called lightly over her shoulder._

_He lingered, clasping the still warm cup in both hands._

_"So what are you going to do with your new ship?"_

_Garrus shot Joker a look. The human raised his hands in the universal gesture of placation as he spun his chair to face forward once more._

"So what happened next, Alisa?"

Garrus turned to me and I froze, pen stuck to the paper.

"Uh." _Christ, Alisa, quit being so nervous. This one is easy. _"Five minutes later... you were chatting in the battery?" I ventured.

He turned to his friend and tilted his head in my direction. "Smart kid."

Sorono smiled at me, smoke billowing out of the sides of his mouth. I laughed nervously and felt my cheeks flush as I brushed my hair back behind my ear.

"It was more like ten minutes, though." Garrus leaned forward onto the table. "She got a comm from the Illusive Man himself. Another human colony in the Terminus Systems had just gone silent. If it wasn't under attack already, it soon would be. We were about to get our first look at the Collectors."

His mandibles twitched, and something changed in his eyes. "But that wasn't the only thing he told her."

_"It can't be a coincidence," Shepard said, slowly pacing the main battery. "Not a chance in hell."_

_Garrus eyed her with no small amount of concern. She was more worked up than he'd seen her in a long time. Maybe ever. "You really think so?"_

_She halted, hands on her hips and staring at the floor. "Of all the colonies they could have hit, they picked the one that Kaidan was on. I don't believe in fate, Garrus, and I believe in coincidences even less."_

_"So the Collectors are going after a colony specifically to target someone close to you." He scratched at his tattoos along the unscarred side of his face. "I have to tell you, Shepard, a coincidence sounds more likely."_

_"A Collector ship came out of nowhere and blew the Normandy out of the sky, Garrus." Shepard turned her eyes on him. Far from her usual steely gaze, they were lined with worry. "Now they're hitting a colony world, one of dozens, that happens to have one of my crew on it. What are the odds of that?"_

_He didn't answer. He knew enough about Shepard to know when a question was rhetorical. She continued._

_"The Illusive Man knew where he was. He knew and he didn't tell me. Why?"_

_He crossed his arms. "Could be he didn't want any more Alliance marines on his ship than was necessary."_

_Reluctantly, Shepard nodded. "Possible. Also possible that he was using him as bait to lure out the Collectors."_

_"That's assuming that the Collectors are even aware of you or your old crew, that they knew he was on Horizon, and that they care enough to single him out."_

_Shepard paced over to the crate that Garrus used as a seat for his workbench and plopped down onto it, running her hands over her face._

_"I'm not one to jump to conclusions, Garrus. But this is... I don't know." She dropped her hands and leaned on her knees. "Maybe circumstances have me jumping at shadows."_

_Garrus walked nearer to her and shrugged. "Well. You died. That's got to make anyone a bit paranoid."_

_She took a deep breath. "Yeah," she said with a nod. "Maybe."_

_There was something startlingly fragile about the way she looked just then that made Garrus profoundly uncomfortable. It was a side of Shepard he had never seen before, and it frightened him._

_"I want on the ground team," he blurted out._

_She looked up at him, green eyes framed by red hair, flashes of color against the black and white of her uniform._

_"Okay."_


	34. Hail and Farewell

"I'm going to need something a bit stronger for this."

He moved to stand, but Sorono (with a speed and fluid grace I didn't think he was capable of) pushed himself out of his chair and sauntered over to the bar before Garrus could make it to his feet. His hands moved quickly and with a practiced ease, picking out a pair of specific bottles and setting them aside. He knelt down and pulled out a bin of ice from a tiny icemaker beneath the counter, along with a small glass from a shelf on the inside of the cabinet door.

"You still take it over the rocks?" He asked casually as he dropped cubes into the glass.

Garrus settled back into his chair. His head was turned away from me, but I leaned forward and caught him giving his friend a gentle smile as his back was turned. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Still not how you drink a djinnko," he grumbled disapprovingly as he mixed two liquids together in the glass.

"Oh, here we go." Garrus rolled his eyes.

"There's an _art_ to barkeeping," Sorono said as Garrus turned to me and made a 'yadda-yadda' gesture with his fingers. I managed to stifle a giggle. "Not my fault you can't appreciate it."

"Don't suppose you could just serve a drink without a lecture for once." Garrus said.

"Nope," he shot back, stirring the mixture with one of the tiny umbrellas. "Much like how you can't take some friendly advice without bitchin' about it."

Just before he turned back with the drink in his hand, Garrus turned to me and crossed his eyes, moved his mouth up and down wordlessly and mimed chain smoking. Sorono saw none of this, but he did see me with my hands over my mouth and shoulders shaking. Garrus was sitting with his legs crossed and hands laced together on his knee, perfectly innocent.

"Maybe I should keep this," he said, drawing the drink closer to his chest and squinting at him.

Garrus met his stare. "Thought you wanted to hear more."

The standoff lasted all of two seconds. Sorono extended the drink and Garrus accepted it graciously. He walked back over to his chair and dropped into it heavily.

"Only because it's finally starting to get good," he said with a throaty huff as he went for a third (fourth?) cigarette.

Garrus looked down into his drink, pink and purplish with a kind of smoky mixture and the little umbrella still in it. He took a long draught and shook his head.

"Good is subjective."

_The Collector ship loomed above them, rocks or chitin jutting out from it's polished hull at oddly right angles. There was a fearful symmetry to the thing, a strange architecture to it that spoke of a design he couldn't quite fathom. Occasional bursts of electromagnetism discharged from it's plating, and it was affecting local weather patterns somehow, coloring the sky a stormy grey._

_The shuttle pulled away as soon as the ground team had disembarked. Shepard, Garrus, and Dr. Solus himself._

_"Mordin. You sure this countermeasure will protect us against the seeker swarms?" Shepard had her Commander mask back up again._

_"Certainty impossible, but in limited numbers should confuse detection, make us invisible to swarms... in theory."_

_"In theory?" Garrus asked._

_"Experimental technology, only test is contact with seeker swarms. Always test work myself, why I volunteered for groundside." The good doctor's clipped speech poured out of his mouth at a mile a minute, with occasional pauses reserved only for deep breaths or particularly pithy quips. "Should be exciting!"_

_"Right," Garrus said dryly, checking the seals on his helmet again. "Exciting."_

_"You volunteered too, Garrus," Shepard said as she drew her rifle and took point._

_"That I did," he sighed as he pulled the sniper from his back and shifted to keep to Shepard's right. Mordin consciously shifted left, keeping them in a loose diamond formation as they advanced up a ridge and into the colony proper._

_Still early in it's development, the colony was mostly short, squat prefab structures placed in rough grids, with occasional barriers and walls forming defensive perimeters that hadn't mattered one whit once the seeker swarms had descended on the unknowing populace. From what Shepard and Mordin had pieced together from the video footage they recovered from Freedom's Progress, the seekers acted as some kind of paralyzation device, stinging and then leaving the victims to be carted onto the ship itself like so much human cargo. There was almost no resistance._

_The clouds of seekers, vicious looking insectoid creatures the size of Garrus' fist, flew above them uncaring. So far, Mordin's countermeasure appeared to be working. Still, Shepard didn't walk directly under the swarm itself, instead skirting around the edge and taking indoor routes through empty housing units whenever possible._

_Occasionally, the housing units were not unoccupied. Shepard and her team skirted around the frozen colonists stung by the seekers. Some stood stock still in the middle of the room, some were going for weapons in lockers, some were half-collapsed against floors and tables. Always, their frightened eyes followed them as they passed by._

_They were a fair ways into the colony when they found their first Collector._

_Bipedal, bony, and brown. Too many golden compound eyes and no visible mouth on it's dish shaped skull, but it still emitted an excited clicking when it turned and saw them. Wings buzzed from it's back and lifted it into the air, where it was promptly cut down by a single shot from Garrus' rifle._

_"Excellent shot, minimal damage to body," Mordin said excitedly, rushing over to the corpse and scanning it with his omni-tool._

_"Mordin, now's really not the time." Shepard moved alongside him. Her eyes scanned along the various approaches._

_"Data invaluable, possible weaknesses to exploit, technology to study-"_

_"Incoming!" Shepard brought her Avenger up to her shoulder and fired a burst, taking down one of the group of four Collectors already flying toward them. Garrus took down another with a well placed shot, and while he was reloading, Mordin drew his heavy pistol and downed the other two with a pair of well placed shots, barely turning from his omni-tool as he did so. They fell to the ground, wings clipped but not dead. They managed to fire a few bursts from their strange pulsing weapons before Shepard and Garrus took care of them._

_Garrus had to admit, he was impressed. Whether it was moving to or from cover, drawing a bead, or pulling the trigger, there wasn't an ounce of hesitation in the doctor. If he hadn't known Mordin was ex-STG before, he would now._

_Mordin finished his scan and nodded to Shepard before marching forward. "Enough data for now, more opportunities for information gathering later. Colonists in danger."_

_Shepard glanced to Garrus and he could see her quirk an eyebrow through the thin visor of glass in her helmet. He shrugged, and they followed after him. Mordin slowed to allow Shepard to take point again, and took the left flank just as before._

"Mordin was almost forty. Golden years for a salarian, but you'd never know it to see him fight." Garrus shook his head sadly and flexed his mandibles one at a time. "He was so committed to doing the most possible good with what remained of his life. He could be cold, sure. Too focused on the big picture at times. But he was a good man. He deserves to be remembered."

Sorono nodded slowly, took a drag off his cigarette, and said nothing. Neither did I. I circled the name 'Mordin Solus' in my notes and hoped I would get the opportunity to ask more about him later, because from the look in the Primarch's eyes, now wasn't the time.

Garrus took another pull of his drink and frowned, brow plate lowering. "We fought our way through a few more groups of Collectors before we encountered it for the first time."

"It?" I asked.

His eyes hardened. "Harbinger."

_"Shepard!"_

_She turned towards Mordin, saw him pointing. One of the Collector drones (and Garrus was sure that was what they were now, just drones) lifted into the air, gold and yellow light coursing through and around it's body. It was surrounded and then seemed to burst, exoskeleton cracking and fracturing. Garrus felt his plates tingle. Biotics._

_"__**I WILL DIRECT THIS PERSONALLY,**__" Garrus heard in his head. "__**ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL.**__"_

_The drone floated to the ground and slowly advanced on Shepard. She rose and fired, rounds bouncing harmlessly off a biotic barrier. Mordin jumped up and threw a small firebomb from his omni-tool, which did as little damage._

_"__**YOUR ATTACK IS AN INSULT.**__"_

_The voice in his head was deep and seemed to breath out its words. Whatever emotion it chose to convey was overwhelming in it's intensity, while also wholly and utterly disdainful, as though it was wasting it's time communicating at all. He'd heard something like it before, once. Way back on Virmire._

_Garrus popped off a concussive shot and it staggered as the barrier weakened. Shepard took the opportunity to break from cover and flank left. The affected drone fired it's weapon, somehow more powerful than it had been moments before, and actually took down her shields before she was able to dive into cover again._

_"__**FLEE WHILE YOU CAN, SHEPARD.**__"_

_Garrus froze, the drone in his sights._

_It knew her name._

_Mordin threw another firebomb. This time it caught as the barrier dropped. The flaming drone turned and fired, pushing the salarian back down into cover. Garrus moved up and fired again, piercing the armored head of the Collector. It didn't fall. Instead it turned toward him and aimed true. He took the blast full in the chest, shields dropping almost instantly._

_"__**THIS BODY'S PAIN IS IRRELEVANT.**__"_

_Shepard actually charged __the thing from behind, riddling it with rounds before she closed into melee distance and smashed the thing's skull wide open. Green and yellow blood, along with a blue fluid leaking from what looked like cybernetic implants, poured onto the ground as the body collapsed to the ground._

_"__**THIS CHANGES NOTHING, SHEPARD.**__" The corpse glowed, and the yellow light cracked the armor further. "__**YOU HAVE ONLY DELAYED THE INEVITABLE.**__"_

_The corpse promptly flashed an almost blinding glow before it disintegrated entirely, small specks of sickly yellow ash floating on sharp gusts of wind._

_"__**I WILL FIND YOU AGAIN.**__"_

_And all of a sudden, the presence that had made itself known in their minds seemed to evaporate. Garrus shook his head and in lieu of being able to scratch his tattoos, he shook his head and tapped the side of his helmet with a knuckle. Mordin bent down to examine the smoky trace remains of the drone._

_"Well." Shepard shook her rifle, Collector blood dripping off the butt. "Now we know."_

_Garrus looked up and met her eyes. Even beneath her helmet, the mask was in full force. She wouldn't let it break. Not now, not during a mission._

_"Shouldn't have doubted you," he said._

_"Wish I was wrong," she replied, tone neutral._

_"Body's decay quick and irreversible once begun, short term power over long term survivability." Mordin rose and stared at Shepard. "Knew your name," he said, relatively slowly._

_Shepard looked down at the ashes. She turned away and her squad followed, tight on her flanks._

No one spoke. Sorono sat unmoving, smoke gently rising from the stick in his mouth. I kept my hands on my pen and paper and my eyes on Garrus. He fiddled with his talons, plucking at one in particular.

"Wasn't long after that when we encountered a survivor. Locked himself in a maintenance shed. Blamed the Collector attack on the Alliance, said they wouldn't have come if they hadn't built those guns."

_"Guns?"_

_"Some GARDIAN laser towers. They weren't even online yet," the old mechanic said bitterly. "The goddamn Alliance's idea. Outreach program my ass."_

_Shepard shot Garrus a meaningful look._

_"Not a gun yet made that I can't calibrate, Shepard," he said lightly._

_She turned back to the mechanic. "Where are the controls for the guns?"_

_"In the starport, through the next plaza." He gestured toward the other door in the shed, opposite the one they'd come in through. "I... I could show you-"_

_"No." Shepard was already moving. "Stay here and keep those doors locked."_

_When the shed was behind them, Shepard said, "If it's all the same to you, Garrus, I think I want EDI to handle the guns remotely. Not exactly a need for precision targeting."_

_Garrus glanced up at the monolithic Collector ship, stabbing hundreds of meters into the sky. "Point taken, Commander."_

_They moved with purpose through the next plaza. Even through the large bay doors leading into the open-air starport, Garrus could hear the telltale moaning and groaning._

_"Husks," he said, queueing up behind Shepard with his rifle raised over her shoulder._

_"Individuals difficult to distinguish, numbers impossible to know for certain, but detect approximately two dozen distinct voices." Mordin centered up behind Garrus, pistol raised. He took a deep breath. "Possibly drones as well."_

_Shepard didn't look behind her. She raised her omni-tool and prepared to breach the door. "Ready?"_

_Mordin touched Garrus' shoulder, and Garrus did the same to Shepard. Military signals were always simpler than words._

_Shepard keyed her omni-tool. The lock went green, the big bay doors opened slowly, and they charged in._

"You weren't here when I talked about what fighting with Shepard was like."

Sorono tried to blow a smoke ring and it came out more of a smoke rhombus. "No, but that's the one thing you wouldn't stop gushing about back on Menae. 'Pure military. Precise and surgical. Thing of beauty.'" He tilted his head and grinned lopsidedly. "One would think you had a crush."

Garrus' mandibles twitched. "I don't _gush._"

Sorono turned to me. "He gushes, right?"

My eyes widen and I feel the pen fall from my hand. Oh god, I was not prepared for this, I have to lie, but I can't lie to him, and I can't lie worth a damn anyway, oh god he's looking at me oh god-

"Only a little!"

Garrus narrowed his eyes at me, then turned to Sorono (who looked thoroughly pleased with himself) and crossed his arms.

"I do _not_ gush. I state facts."

"Keep telling yourself that." He rested his cheek against his hand. "Now I believe you were about to say something about fighting with Shepard?"

The Primarch closed his eyes and crossed his legs.

"Oh come on, Vakarian, regale us with a tale of military precision and surgical beauty. Pretty please."

He took a deep breath and released a long-suffering sigh. He opened his eyes and glanced to me, shaking his head.

"He's such an ass," he stage whispered before he continued.

_"Garrus! Your ten!"_

_He spun and fired almost without looking. A Collector took the shot full in the chest and crumpled as Garrus dropped back behind the cargo crates. Shepard's voice crackled in through his comms, not trusting her voice to carry through the commotion of the firefight._

_"Mordin, your six! Garrus, short 'em!"_

_He didn't have to rise to see Mordin spin around and put two rounds into a husk that was sprinting at him from behind. There was a drone behind it, whose barriers promptly dropped when Garrus raised his omni-tool and keyed it for remote overload. While the drone was running for cover, the animated corpse of the husk fell to the ground and promptly exploded._

_"That you?" Shepard's voice asked through the comm._

_"No. Mordin?"_

_"Husk showed similar signs to that of Collector drone," he shouted, repositioning himself behind cover as he threw a firebomb past cover and into the drone who had attempted to flee. "Need more data to confirm, but advise against close contact with any affected husks."_

_"Wasn't planning on it," Garrus said as he rose, firing another two shots and taking two drones down from the sky._

_"EDI, what's the status of the guns?" Shepard shouted in between bursts from her rifle. Garrus could see her from where he was stationed. Most of the drones seemed to focusing on her._

_"Seventy five percent charged." EDI's voice came in loud and clear._

_"Shepard! Five o'clock!" Garrus quickly loaded a concussive round and fired, knocking down the drone on her rear flank. Shepard turned and knew her position was being overrun. She sprinted back towards Mordin, who provided covering fire._

_A drone flew down from a nearby prefab structure and cut her off. It began to glow._

_"__**I AM THE HARBINGER OF YOUR PERFECTION,**__" the voice cut into Garrus' head again, bellowing without effort. "__**THIS IS WHAT YOU FACE.**__"_

_Shepard was too close, too far from cover, no way out. She did the only thing she could. She pulled her pistol with her left hand and held her rifle with her right and fired everything she had._

_Garrus took aim at it's head and pulled the trigger. He saw Mordin from behind keying something into his omni-tool while firing his heavy pistol and the drone suddenly reeled from the shock. It staggered, battered by fire from three sides, but still managed to fire it's weapon at Shepard not once but twice._

_"__**PITIFUL.**__"_

_Her shields dropped. With nothing left to protect her, still too far from cover to try and flee and both her guns on the verge of overheating, she charged forward once again and tried to tackle the thing to the ground. It raised a glowing hand, biotics swirling around it, and smacked her aside. She flew a full twenty feet and landed on top of another stack of cargo crates in what had apparently been a very busy starport before the attack._

_"__**YOU ARE ARROGANT, SHEPARD. YOU WILL LEARN.**__"_

_Garrus was moving before she even touched down and was at her side in seconds. He dragged her back behind cover while Mordin did his best to finish off the weakened drone with a couple of firebombs._

_"Shepard, you with me?"_

_She growled something in response that his translator didn't pick up. Probably a particularly incoherent curse. Her eyes were screwed shut and she was gritting her teeth. There was a brief, terrifying second where he flashed back to Omega, but he crushed it as quickly as it came. He would never let that place get the better of him again._

_Shepard was in serious pain, but she knew what she had to do. She dropped the rifle she still clutched in her hand and popped the seals on her chest plate. Garrus quickly lifted it off just long enough to stick a dissolving medigel packet into the side of her stomach where the blood was most visible. He pressed hard and she stifled a cry. It wouldn't mend any broken ribs, and if she was bleeding internally the biomemetic stem cells would only hold her together for a few hours, but it was enough. The painkillers seeped into the flesh and had an immediate effect - Shepard's eyes opened and her jaw unclenched._

_"EDI," she gasped. "Status of the guns."_

_"Ninety eight percent." If Garrus didn't know better, he would say she sounded pleased. "I suggest everyone stand clear."_

_As Shepard popped her armor back on, Garrus lifted his head over the crates he'd dragged her behind. The affected drone was collapsing into a twitching, burning heap as it disintegrated._

_"__**THIS DELAY IS POINTLESS.**__" The voice in his head began to fade and Garrus felt its presence leave his mind like a cloud passing overhead. "__**YOU HAVE ALREADY FAILED.**__"_

_Above them, and around the starport, the twenty meter tall guns began to fire. The handful of remaining drones took flight, and the seeker swarms that buzzed overheard suddenly turned as one. Garrus helped Shepard to her feet and Mordin ran up alongside as the massive Collector warship lifted off, the ground shaking as it's one large thruster fired into the earth, GARDIAN lasers just beginning to do noticeable damage to the strange rocky plating._

_They were retreating._

_They had won._

_Shepard pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair and staring up at the sky. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she brushed it off with her armored forearm. Garrus followed suit, tugging off his helmet carefully so it didn't catch on his fringe. Mordin was only wearing a simple breathing apparatus, and it was easily pulled down to his long, thin neck._

_As the ship broke atmo, the mechanic they'd encountered earlier ran into the starport, pointing at the sky._

_"No, don't let them get away!" He shouted. "They must have half the colony in there!"_

_Shepard frowned, her face too pale from the shock of her wound. "There's nothing we can do."_

_He paced around in front of them, eyes on the quickly shrinking ship. "Eegan and Sam a-and Lilith! You gotta do something!"_

_Her jaw clenched and it wasn't from the pain. "I'm sorry."_

_Garrus wasn't about to stand there and let her take the blame for something that wasn't her fault, so he spoke up. "If it wasn't for Shepard, you'd _all_ be on board that thing." _

_"Shepard?" The mechanic turned and squinted at her, regarding her strangely. "I remember that name. You're some type of big Alliance hero."_

_"Commander Shepard."_

_Everyone turned, and Garrus heard Shepard's intake of breath. From beyond the west bay doors came an old friend. Stoic and calm, dark hair and classically handsome features. He advanced slowly towards the group._

_"Captain of the Normandy, first human Spectre, and savior of the Citadel." He glanced over at the mechanic. "You're in the presence of a legend, Delann. And a ghost."_

_"All the good people we lost and you get left behind." He scowled. "Figures. Screw this, I'm done with you Alliance types."_

_Delann marcheed off angrily as Kaidan got within feet of Shepard. Garrus saw the look in his eyes, and the look in hers, and promptly turned away to give them some privacy. Mordin took the hint and walked off to scan for any remaining Collector bodies or tech while Garrus began monitoring the now-active defense guns. He heard the sound of reinforced ceramic armor clacking together, and imagined they were embracing._

_"Thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did."_

_"I was. It's complicated."_

_More clacking. Probably pulling away. _Focus on the datafeed, Vakarian.

_"That all you have to say? Two years and all I get is 'it's complicated?'" He exhaled sharply. "Why didn't you try to contact me?"_

Guns are using too much power. Should reconfigure._ He typed into his omni-tool._

_"I was on a slab for two years, Kaidan," Shepard replied. She seemed taken aback by his demeanor. "When I woke up, no one would tell me where you were. Not the Illusive Man, not even Anderson."_

_"The Illusive Man." The crunching of grass underneath boots. "So it's true. You're with Cerberus."_

_Garrus' mandibles flickered. _Targeting systems are barely adequate. Lucky they hit anything at all.

_She sounded confused. "You already knew?"_

_"Alliance intel said that Cerberus might have something to do with the missing human colonies. I got a tip this one might be the next to get hit. Anderson stonewalled me, but there were whispers that you weren't dead. That you were working with the enemy."_

_"They're not-" She caught herself before she began to defend them. "We want the same thing. I don't answer to them."_

_"Don't you?" His tone slowly became accusatory. "Or is that what they want you to think?"_

_There was a pause. Shepard apparently didn't have a response for that. Garrus grit his teeth._

_"I wanted to believe you were alive. Wanted more than anything." The longing in his voice mingled with betrayal. "But I never wanted this."_

_Shepard quickly found her voice again, forceful and direct._

_"Kaidan, you _know me._ You know I'd only do this for the right reasons. You saw it yourself - the Collectors are targeting human colonies, they're working with the Reapers."_

_"Cerberus could be using that threat to manipulate you. You know how they operate, you've seen what they've done. How do you know it isn't happening right now?"_

_Garrus couldn't hold his tongue anymore. He turned and glared at him._

_"Damn it, Kaidan, you're so focused on Cerberus that you're ignoring the real threat!"_

_Kaidan's eyes jumped from Shepard to Garrus. "There's more than one threat in the galaxy."_

_Garrus caught Shepard closing her eyes and opening them again. When she spoke, she was the Commander again. "You're letting your feelings get in the way of the facts."_

_"Maybe." Kaidan looked at her with harsh, searching eyes. "Or maybe you're the one who's not thinking straight. Maybe they didn't put you back together exactly the way you were."_

_The mask cracked almost immediately. Shepard's eye twitched, and she glanced away._

_"I've got to report back to the Citadel." Kaidan began to turn away. "They can decide if they believe your story or not."_

_"Come with me." Shepard blurted out._

_Kaidan visibly hesitated. He stood with his back to her. Garrus couldn't believe she had made the offer after he had all but accused her of treason and walked away from her, but he didn't say anything._

_"I'm an Alliance marine, Shepard," Kaidan said, tone bitter and resigned. "I'll be one 'til the day I die."_

_He turned back and met her eyes one last time. His were misty and cold._

_"Goodbye. Be careful."_

_Kaidan Alenko walked away without looking back. When Garrus finally lost sight of him as he turned a corner, he turned his attention to Shepard. She wasn't looking at him. She wasn't looking at much of anything. Silently, she raised a finger to press into the subcutaneous comm in her ear._

_"Joker, send a shuttle to pick us up." She paused for a breath. "I've had enough of this colony."_


	35. Being There

Sorono sneered and his brow plate lowered. He rolled his cigarette between his three fingers. "You still friends with this prick?"

Garrus' expression was stern. A forced kind of neutrality. He nodded slowly.

His old partner shook his head. "Don't understand that at all."

"Kaidan had his concerns," Garrus said evenly. "They weren't... unreasonable."

"Sure." Sorono flicked ash into his tumbler. "You would have thought the same thing in his shoes."

There was a pause. The Primarch stood and strolled over to his bar, pouring a a quick drink.

"Oh wait," Sorono continued, "that's right. You didn't, did you?"

He said nothing, simply turned around and set the drink on the table, lightly pushing it over so it coasted in front of Sorono. He murmured his thanks as Garrus sat once more. Sorono took a deep draught and rasped out a sigh that sounded like a tree saw.

"I'll admit. It's hard for me to like Kaidan." Garrus frowned. He leaned on the table and took a drink of his own. "But it's harder for me to hate him. Since the war, anyway. We each said our piece then, got it off our chests. Cleared the air some. And after it ended... well. It was hard enough without holding grudges."

"Do you-" I coughed and cleared my throat. "Do you keep in touch?"

Garrus looked at me with strange eyes. He flared his mandibles uncomfortably and made vague gestures with his hands as I took a sip of my water. "Once a year we have a stilted, awkward conversation over drinks. A few 'wonder ifs' and 'remember whens.' One of us offers to keep in touch, never does, and the process repeats."

"Once a year?"

He looked a bit reticent, so Sorono chimed in. "Crew reunion."

My eyebrows lifted. "Oooh. I'll, uh." I scratched out a line. "I'll omit that."

Garrus blinked. Some tension left his shoulders. He tilted his head and his mandibles flexed outward in a grateful smile. "Thank you. It's a private thing. No one knows about it."

"You told me," he said, taking a drag.

The Primarch kept his eyes on me. "No one who matters knows about it."

Sorono smiled an easy, charming smile and raised his glass. The one not filled with ashes and cigarette butts. "Fuck you too, Vakarian."

Garrus turned and met his friend's smile with one of his own. He raised his own drink, and they toasted.

"So." Sorono settled back into his seat, lounging once again. "After the prick left, what happened?"

"You've never even met the man, Sor," Garrus remarked casually.

He shrugged. "Makes it that much easier to hate him."

The Primarch's mandibles lowered into a small smile, but quickly raised again. He reached up and scratched nervously at his scars. That put me on edge. I paid close attention to what he said next.

_He had tried kava, he had tried calibrating, he had even tried watching an old vid. Nothing helped. Garrus couldn't relax, and he couldn't sleep. He had saved one option for last. It was in the cargo hold. Zaeed had brought it aboard and placed it there so anyone could use it. A rare act of generosity. Garrus would have to pretend to be interested in one of his war stories after this._

_He paced the elevator as it descended. He knew why he was angry, and he tried not to think about it. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. And the less of him gave a damn about a man he had trusted as a friend and comrade. He didn't want that._

_The doors opened and the sound of fists striking leather drifted in. Garrus stepped out and turned to his left._

_Shepard had her back to him. She was down to a tank-top and sweatpants, black with a red and white stripe down the right leg. She was laying into the old and beaten heavy bag in the corner with a flurry of hard punches. Left, right, left, left, right. Down low, then up high. Hooks and straights. Judging by the condition of her hair (tied behind her head) and the bag (visibly dented) she had been at this for a while already._

_He considered turning around and leaving. Shepard wasn't about to quit anytime soon, and she needed it more than Garrus did. She deserved some time alone._

_But did she want to be alone?_

_He shook his head. Of course she did. She would seek him out if she wanted company. But if he was already here, shouldn't he at least say something? If she didn't want to talk, fine. But if she did? He was her friend. What else were friends for?_

_Shepard paused in her endless onslaught against the bag. She was a bit winded, her shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths._

_"You gonna say something, or are you just enjoying the show?"_

_The words were harsh, but there was a thin, wavering quality to her voice that Garrus did not like. Not one bit. "I, uh."_

_She spun her head around, eyes wide. "Oh. Garrus."_

_"Sorry." He backed toward the elevator. "I'll go."_

_"No," she said quickly. "Sorry. Didn't know it was you. You need me for something?"_

_He shrugged. "Actually, I was hoping to get a few minutes with the bag, but it seems you two have a prior engagement."_

_She smiled weakly. "'Fraid so."_

_Neither of them said anything for a moment. He was about to excuse himself a second time when she thumbed over her shoulder. "You wanna hold it? It's been getting away from me."_

_Well. She had asked._

_Garrus strode forward and settled himself behind the bag, hanging as it was from a thin but strong chain attached to a basic metal stand. His hands and his stance were loose, relying on his body weight to keep the thing steady._

_Shepard raised her eyebrows. "You ready?"_

_He gave her a skeptical look, and she threw a punch that almost sent him off balance. He chuckled, mandibles flaring wide in surprise while Shepard flashed him a wicked grin, and he recentered himself. Gripped the bag tightly and bent his knees, one foot slightly in front of the other._

_The next punch was just as impressive, but he held his ground, and so did the bag. Shepard started to really let go (Garrus knew now she had been holding back before he'd arrived) and the old and stitched together bag looked as though it were on the verge of a serious structural failure._

_"You believe what happened today?" Shepard asked in between hooks._

_"No," he responded simply. He didn't really know which unbelievable event she was referring to, but his answer applied to all of them._

_"Me neither." Jab, straight, uppercut. "Wish I could get it out of my head."_

_"Yeah." Again, the safe answer._

_Shepard stopped with single punches and combos and started a flurry without cessation. He held his ground and let her punch herself out, which thanks to Cerberus cybernetics, took a lot longer than it should have. Somehow, the bag held together. Garrus could see why Zaeed kept it around._

_When she finished, Shepard let her hands fall to her sides and stared, like she was counting the stitches._

_"He's so fucking stubborn," she said between deep, heaving breaths. "So fucking emotional. And the worst part is he's right."_

_Garrus blinked. "What?"_

_Shepard placed her hands on the bag and leaned her head against them. Her eyes closed._

_"What am I doing here," she breathed out quietly._

_He leaned around the bag. "I'm not following."_

_She turned and walked away, stopping after a few steps. "Ever since that first night in that gigantic fucking cabin I've asked myself the same thing. 'What am I doing here?' __Kept rationalizing it. Too many lives on the line, too little time to get legitimate aid, too many valuable resources to just turn them down. Didn't help much. Kept asking anyway."_

_Shepard turned and walked over to the wall. "And then I wondered what I was really asking." She pressed her back against it and slid down to the floor, elbows on her knees. "Maybe I'm _not_ here__."_

_"Shepard-"_

_"What if I'm not me? What if I'm dead, and all these cybernetics are the only thing keeping me going? A Cerberus husk. Look at me, for fuck's sake, I'm in a Cerberus ship, with a Cerberus crew, wearing Cerberus clothes." She grasped suddenly at the knee of her black sweatpants and made a fist, clenched hard. She closed her eyes and slammed the back of her head against the wall._

_"Shepard!" Garrus knelt down next to her. He wasn't about to let her do this to herself. She did that again, he was going to have to restrain her. "Spirits _alive_."_

_Her eyes remained closed, a bit too tight, pain coursing through the back of her skull. "It's okay. Reinforced skin weave. Enhanced bone strength." Her jaw clenched. "The bulkhead will give before I do."_

_"Shepard." This time he wouldn't let her interrupt. "You're _you._ Irrespective of cybernetics, reconstruction, or circumstance. I _know_ you're you."_

_She said nothing. Garrus sat down next to her, back to the wall._

_"I knew the moment I saw you fight. When I saw you signal your team. When I saw how you held your gun."_

_"Skills can be taught," she said curtly._

_His mandibles fluttered angrily. "Look at me."_

_Shepard opened them and gave him a searching look. Garrus raised a finger to his own eyes and shook his head._

_"You can't teach that, Shepard."_

_Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, then she turned away. __He leaned forward to get a better look at her, knees against his chest. "How's the shoulder?"_

_Shepard blinked, then looked down._

_"Caught you rolling it in the airlock before we boarded the Purgatory. Bothered you since the Citadel, hasn't it?"_

_She shook her head, brow furrowed. "Chakwas says there's nothing wrong with it. Phantom pain. Makes no sense."_

_"You're right," he said, leaning back against the wall. "It doesn't."_

_He saw it begin to sink in. __Shepard looked up from her shoulder and closed her eyes again. She took a deep breath._

_"A good copy could fool a lot of people, Shepard," he said quietly. "But not me."_

_"And Cerberus?" She asked, keeping the question vague._

_"Walking into hell with someone you trust, remember?" He glanced away briefly. "But for what it's worth? I probably would have taken their help too."_

_Her eyes remained shut, but she visibly relaxed. Garrus decided to take a chance. She needed some relief from the weight of all this._

_"You know what's _not_ like you is all this self-doubt."_

_"Really." She said evenly._

_"Shepard, you walked into the Council Chambers and told them that you had a dream that ancient machine gods were coming to destroy all sentient life, and when they didn't believe you, you got _angry_ at them for it."_

_She sputtered into a quiet laugh, gone too quick. The smile lingered, though. That more than anything else made Garrus feel as though he'd made a difference._

_"Yeah," she said. "Guess you're right."_

_They sat there for a minute. Garrus kept glancing over at her. Shepard's eyes were still closed and she seemed far more at ease than she had only a minute ago. Still, something troubled her. He could tell, somehow._

_"Still can't believe he said goodbye," she whispered._

_Garrus tore his gaze away and stared at the heavy bag, mandibles flexing tight against his face. There wasn't a damn thing he could say to soothe that particular wound._

_He felt Shepard's presence leave his side. She entered his vision, paced over behind the bag, grabbed something off a small crate, and walked back._

_"Put these on."_

_She tossed him a pair of flat sparring pads. His brow plate raised. "You sure?"_

_Shepard had already turned away, flexing her arms across her chest. "I want to sleep tonight, Garrus, and the only way that's happening is if I'm too tired to do anything else."_

_"No full-contact?" He asked idly._

_"I'd mop the floor with you," she said, half-jokingly. "And you have to think during a fight. I don't want to think, I just want to hit something."_

_He slipped on one pad and realized he had a problem. "I'm, uh. Gonna need some help."_

_She raised a hand to her face and turned, shaking her head. "Right. Duh."_

_Her nimble five fingered hands made quick work of the strings of the pads. Once they were both tightly tied, he moved behind her so her back was to the corner and slapped them together._

_"Ready?"_

_Shepard set herself. Then it began._

_Right, left, right, left. He took a step back with every punch, and when he ran out of room, he spun around her and shifted the position of the pads, and she instantly switched up her strikes. First it was crosses, then straights, then hooks, then uppercuts. After that, he lowered the pads and held them out wide, and she switched to kicks. Then the entire pattern would repeat.  
><em>

_For Kaidan's sake, Garrus did his best not to look at her eyes. He didn't want to hate the man for the rest of his life._

_The routine went on for almost an hour, non-stop and full-force. Near the end, she began to grow weary, and her strikes lost most of their power. Eventually she backed him up against the far wall of the cargo hold and he spun around her once more, but this time she just collapsed against a crate of rations._

_"Okay," she said in between big gulps of air. "I'm done."_

_"Good. My hands were getting numb." Garrus grabbed at the string on the back of his hand with his teeth and pulled. While he was busy removing the pads, Shepard slumped down to the floor and closed her eyes again._

_"Tired?" He asked dryly, untying the other pad with his newly freed hand._

_Shepard hummed an affirmative._

_"You can't sleep down here, you know."_

_"Ever hear the one about the eight hundred pound gorilla?"_

_He blinked at her. "What?"_

_She smiled wearily. "Never mind."_

_Garrus tossed the pads over in a corner. "Come on, Shepard. I'm not leaving you here."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because you'll wake up aching all over from sleeping on a crate of MREs and then you'll blame me."_

_Her weary smile became a grin. "Guess it would be your fault."_

_"Exactly." He held out a hand. "I'll carry you if I have to."_

_He hoped she wouldn't call his bluff. Thankfully, she didn't. She opened her eyes and clasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet. His other hand hovered just around her elbow, ready to catch her if she wavered on her feet. She didn't._

_Shepard shot him a look that would have put him in his place if she weren't too tired to make it work. "I can walk, Vakarian."_

_"Forgive me for being cautious," he said, following close by her side as she made her way to the elevator. She keyed for deck one, and Garrus suddenly realized he'd never actually seen her quarters on the SR-2._

_"Least this elevator is faster," she mumbled, leaning against the inside wall._

_"Cerberus should send the schematics for it to the Citadel," Garrus quipped. Shepard chuckled, and when the doors opened, she waved for him to follow._

_"Come on. See what Cerberus bought me."_

_The door opened and Shepard walked in, then off to the right. Another door swished open and then closed - probably a bathroom. Garrus didn't go too far in, simply took in the sights at the top of the little landing._

_"Wow, you weren't kidding," he said, raising his voice so she could hear him through the door._

_"I know, right?" Shepard called back. He heard the sound of rushing water. Sink, not shower, he told himself._

_It was enormous compared to her quarters on the SR-1. Hell, it was bigger than his old apartment back on Shalta Ward. A couch and an end table, a coffee table, two night stands between a massive bed, a chair, a small office on the upper landing with a private terminal, a glass case half-full of model ships separating the office from the living area, and a gigantic fish tank embedded in the leftmost wall that had a single lonely fish swimming around it._

_"Well, I can certainly see how you'd be uncomfortable up here in your palace," he said dryly, stepping down the couple of stairs into the lower living area. The wardrobe to the left of her bed had a holographic imager above it. Armor customization interface, probably._

_The water stopped. The bathroom door swished open and Shepard walked out, still in her sweatpants and tank top. Her hair was wet, and she had let it down from it's tie. There was a small towel around her neck._

_"You know what really sucks?" She said, plodding down the stairs. "It's starting to grow on me."_

_"Luxury tends to do that."_

_She smirked at him. "I look particularly decadent to you?"_

_"Not in military issue sweats," he admitted._

_Shepard barked out a humorless laugh. "Military doesn't issue sweats with an N7 stripe, Garrus. This is Cerberus' idea of a joke."_

_He looked down at her pants and blinked. "I don't get it."_

_"I don't either, but putting my rank on the side of my pants isn't exactly coming from a place of respect." She sneered. "I hate the damn things."_

_"But you still wear them."_

_"Right." She shrugged. "Hell if I'm going to let them know it bothers me."_

_"So..." He tilted his head and shifted his weight. "You hate them because you think that they think it's funny, but you don't know why, and you wear them so that they don't know that you hate them because they think it's funny."_

_Shepard grinned. "Humans are so logical, aren't they."_

_"So much it makes my head hurt," he chuckled._

_There was a pause. A strange silence built between them. Shepard rubbed her head with the towel._

_"You want something to drink? I've got..." She blinked. "Water."_

_He breathed out a laugh. "No, I won't keep you up. You should get some rest."_

_"Yeah." She nodded. "You too, big guy."_

_"Believe me, I will," he said, turning away._

_He was almost at the door when Shepard spoke again._

_"Hey, Garrus. Thanks."_

_He turned. "Any time you need a sparring partner, you know where to find me."_

_"No, I-" Shepard stood at the bottom of her landing. She glanced away and chewed on her next words before she spoke them._

_"Thanks for being there. Here. With me." She ran a hand through her sweaty, messy, alien hair that he'd never understand. "You know what I mean."_

_Garrus turned to face her more fully and let his chin dip a little._

_"I'm here when you need me, Shepard," he said. "That's never going to change."_

_Shepard beamed at him, and for a moment, he smiled back. It made him feel damn good to know he'd helped her, in even a small way. But he thought he saw something behind her eyes, something... off. He didn't recognize it, had no reference for it, and that bothered him. He promptly nodded and turned away, walking out of her quarters. Not too quickly but not too slowly either._

_As the elevator doors closed behind him, he did his best not to think about it. But it was a lost cause, and he knew it._

_He pressed the button for the cargo hold. Maybe a few minutes with the heavy bag would take his mind off things._


	36. Push and Pull

Sorono was giving Garrus an amused sort of look, with narrowed eyes and a raised brow. He took a little puff of his cigarette while Garrus scratched nervously at the plates on his face, looking as sheepish as I'd ever seen him. Neither of them said anything for a while.

I cleared my throat. "So, what happened next?"

"Do tell," Sorono drawled.

Garrus rumbled something under his breath and sighed, broad shoulders sagging.

"Next day I woke up aching all over, skipped breakfast to work with the guns, and only saw Shepard again at mid-day."

_"Vakarian!" Shepard's small table was nearly full, but she waved him over._

_"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said as he dropped into the last remaining seat._

_"On the contrary," Shepard said, "we were just discussing our next port of call."_

_"Citadel," Mordin clarified, eating almost as fast as he spoke. "Meeting with Council, acquisition of supplies, perhaps shore leave. Some... dispute regarding all three."_

_"Not about the first." Shepard focused intently on the woman who say across from her. "It's happening, and you're not coming with. That's the end of it."_

_"Commander, much as I'm sure you trust your old captain, it could easily be a trap." She crossed her arms, her meal forgotten. "The Council-"_

_"The Council isn't Cerberus," Shepard shot back. "You've been working for this organization too long if you're constantly expecting a knife in the back."_

_"And you haven't been working for the Council long enough if you expect nothing but fair and just treatment."_

_Shepard stared at her for a beat, her hard eyes meeting coldly calculating ones, then turned back to her food. "It's happening, Lawson. Get used to it."_

_Lawson glanced away towards the galley. "I'll need a full report on what was said."_

_"Your boss will get his report," Shepard drawled without looking up. "Don't you worry."_

_She frowned slightly. Garrus smiled. Lawson hated being considered nothing more than the Illusive Man's eyes and ears aboard the Normandy, but since she still took nearly every opportunity to defend him and Cerberus, that wasn't going to change anytime soon. At least not in Shepard's eyes. It was rather baffling to Garrus that she was even bothered by the insinuation._

_She sighed and brushed away a lock of long, dark hair. "Then I'll keep the ship ready to undock at a moment's notice."_

_Taylor spoke up. "Commander, permission to accompany you aboard the Citadel."_

_Garrus glanced up. Taylor he understood. Ex-Alliance, a former marine. Respectful, professional, and a good shot with a gun. He'd signed on with Cerberus not to further the cause of humanity or because he had something against aliens, but because there was something that needed doing and the Alliance wasn't doing it. It had taken Garrus a while to grasp this, but when he did, he started to feel that maybe Jacob was a kindred spirit in a way._

_"Permission denied," Shepard replied mildly in between bites of some kind of strange tube-shaped sandwich she held in her hands. "Nothing personal, Taylor, but I'd rather not bring anyone with Cerberus colors into a Council meeting."_

_"Yeah, fair enough." His broad shoulders slumped a little as he nodded. "Just watch yourself, huh? I'm not as worried as Miranda, but they _have_ thrown you under the bus over the last two years."_

_Shepard shrugged. "Worse comes to worst, I'll fight my way back to the ship and we book it."_

_"Really?" Miranda squinted and glanced pointedly at Garrus. "Through C-Sec?"_

_Garrus locked eyes with Shepard ever so briefly. He kept his expression entirely placid._

_"She'd minimize casualties," he said to no one in particular, turning his attention to his food. "But she'd do what she had to."_

_The table was silent as everyone, including Shepard, seemed to take in what he had said._

_"You can talk us out of any trouble, I'm sure."_

_Garrus glanced up, but Shepard had returned to the last of her meal._

_"Of course," he replied anway._

_Shepard swallowed. "That settles it then. Mordin and Garrus will accompany me on board the Citadel. After the meeting I'll contact the Normandy and inform you of the situation. Depending on how well it went, a day or so of shore leave may be in order for the crew."_

_Miranda leaned back, crossed her arms, and nodded coldly._

_"In the meantime, I want everyone to put together a list of supplies they need. We've got credits, and this might be one of the only times we get to spend them inside Council space, so don't leave anything out."_

_Jacob and Mordin nodded firmly at this. "Shepard," Mordin interjected, "several key components I require not easy to come by in Council space. Could require your help in." He smiled a wide salarian smile. "Requisitioning certain items."_

_Shepard looked a bit amused at this. "We'll see what I can do once I've talked to the Council, doctor." She turned. "What about you, Garrus? Anything you need?"_

_"Well." Garrus chewed thoughtfully. "I do still have a few contacts on the station. I'd like to put out a few feelers before we leave, maybe see if I can't get my hands on some schematics that might help._

_"And, of course," he raised his slim turian fork with a bit of dehydrated Palaven breadfood on the end of it. "I'll be sure to add to Gardner's list of ingredients."_

_Shepard smiled. It lasted all of two seconds before there was a loud thud beneath the mess hall._

_"Christ," she said. "They're at it again."_

_Garrus set down his fork. "I can handle Grunt."_

_Mordin moved to stand as well. "Mental stability of Jack in question, well trained in xenopsychology, should allow me to-"_

_"No." She pushed herself up from the table. "The last thing Jack wants to see is a doctor, and the last thing Grunt wants to see is a turian. I'll take care of it."_

_Mordin and Garrus lowered themselves back in their seats. Shepard sighed in exasperation as she made for the elevator._

_"I always take care of it."_

"She was everywhere on that ship over the next few days. Only other person who came close was EDI, and she _was_ the ship." He grimaced. "Everywhere, that is, except the main battery. Only time I saw her was in the mess, taking a meal with the crew."

Garrus arched his back a little, grabbing his neck and massaging it a little before settling comfortably again. "But Shepard was working overtime trying to keep our motley crew together long enough to throw us into the mouth of hell. Turns out that takes a fair bit of work when you've got the damaged, the disturbed, and the juvenile aboard, and your XO is more concerned with monitoring your movements than helping run the ship."

He closed his eyes for a moment. A bit of bitterness had welled up in those last words. It confused me, based on what I already knew.

"I thought Shepard and Ms. Lawson were fr-"

"They were." Garrus opened his eyes again and blew out a particularly flanging and rumbly sigh. "Lawson just... had a conflict of interest, early on. She's a hard woman to know, but you help her when she needs it, and she's almost blindingly loyal. The Illusive Man had helped her, once. Shepard hadn't." Garrus shrugged and smiled knowingly. "Not yet, anyway."

"What about the other one?" Sorono puffed and exhaled. The room was becoming quite smoky. "Taylor."

I coughed. Garrus glanced over to me, then leaned way back in his seat, grabbed the deck door, and slid it open. Smoke slowly began to trail outside.

Sorono hunched his shoulders and cleared his throat. It sounded like a death rattle. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I said, chuckling nervously. "My mom used to smoke."

He hummed curiously and nodded, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth. "She quit?"

"She died."

_Way to be tactful, Alisa._

Garrus was staring daggers at Sorono, who seemed to freeze like a statue for several moments, fingers still as his mouth. When he unfroze, he quickly took the cigarette from his mouth and dumped it into his makeshift ashtray, then leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, looking down at the table.

"Think I'll shut up for a bit," he mumbled.

"That would be best," Garrus ground out. Then he turned to me.

I knew he was checking to make sure I was okay. He looked me straight in the eye, focused and searching. I was fine - I'd had my cry for the year - but I was still flattered by his concern. Hence the blush that rose to my cheeks.

I nodded in what I hoped was a firm way. He blinked, and the intensity left his eyes.

"Where were we, again?" He asked.

"Citadel," I answered.

"Right." He turned back to the table, but not before casting one last glance my way. "The Citadel."

_The meeting could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse._

_It was conducted via vidlink and holographs in Councilor Anderson's office. He'd gotten the position thanks to Shepard's recommendation, back before she died and her word still counted for something with the Council. He looked tired, a bit worn out maybe, but the smile he gave her was genuine._

_"Interesting crew you've brought," he had said, nodding to Garrus and Mordin._

_"Cerberus' diversity hires," she had replied. Everyone chuckled but Mordin, who simply smiled and nodded, as if that made perfect sense._

_When things began in earnest, the three other Councilors materializing in the room, Garrus and Mordin had backed off towards the door to the office. This didn't concern them. They were there, as Shepard had so eloquently put it, as a show of diversity. A little proof that whatever she was doing with Cerberus, she was no human supremicist._

_Of course it hardly mattered. The salarian Councilor was skeptical, the asari diplomatic, and the turian (Sparatus, if Garrus remembered correctly) dismissed her claims entirely. He had even used what Shepard referred to later as 'air quotes' around the word 'Reapers.' A thoroughly human gesture. The idea that he had bothered to learn it just to condescend to humans was both laughable and infuriating. This was the representative of the Hierarchy, the most powerful turian in Council space apart from the Primarchs themselves, and he was little more than a petty child._

_Still, the asari (Tevos?) was willing to compromise, despite her colleague's behavior. The salarian as well, not because he believed Shepard, but just to play it safe in case she was right._

_They offered her a full reinstatement of her Spectre status. A tacit endorsement, but not full support. No, that would be too risky. Someone might actually have to take a _stand_ for something. But Shepard had accepted. Quite grudgingly, Garrus was sure, but you wouldn't know it from her voice or her body language. Tight and controlled, her mask on once again._

_Now, after it was all over, and after Udina briefly stormed in to complain to Anderson about 'political shitstorms' and 'cleaning up after him,' Shepard and Anderson wandered off to the edge of the Councilor's private balcony. They talked quietly. Garrus couldn't help but wonder what about, past the usual pleasantries. Probably Kaidan, based on the nervous tapping of her foot at one point. He would apologize for not telling her, she would accept, and that would be the end of it. Too much trust there, especially after he'd just stuck up for her during the Council meeting, to hold any real grudge about something like that._

_Garrus became conscious that he was essentially eavesdropping and analyzing Shepard's personal conversation like he was on a stakeout back in C-Sec, and quickly averted his eyes. Glancing over to his left, he found Mordin carefully examining a potted plant in the corner. Some Earth shrub or tree or something. He looked absolutely fascinated._

_Eventually, he heard Shepard walking back towards the door. Anderson remained where he was, elbows on the railing, looking out at the tube-shaped Presidium, horizon disappearing up into the relative sky to the left and right. Mordin quickly brought himself up from his squat (he had been examining the root and trunk of the plant) and took two long strides to Garrus' side._

_"We're done here," Shepard said. "Let's go shopping."_

"I won't lie. It felt good to be back on the Citadel. For as much as things had changed with the reconstruction, it was familiar. Like a pair of old boots."

Garrus leaned back in his seat and dented his fingers.

"I've been stationed on plenty of ships, served in plenty of theaters, but I've only _lived_ in a handful of places in my life. Cipritine on Palaven. Shalta Ward on the Citadel. The Normandy SR-1, for about four months. The SR-2 for a bit longer than that. And..." His brow plates raised and he shrugged. "Here, I guess."

A febrile silence filled the room. It had been a long time since it felt this quiet. Sorono was apparently committed to 'shutting up' and I was in no mood to prod the Primarch to go further before he was ready.

The husky voiced turian scratched at his palms. He hadn't lit up again since that awkward moment earlier. I stood and reached across the table, grabbed the pack, shook out a stick, tamped it, and offered it to him. He blinked and accepted it, raising it in silent thanks.

Garrus watched all this from behind his dented fingers. When I sat down again, he chuckled quietly. "I think you can talk now, Sor."

His omni-tool flared as he inhaled his first drag. Smoke billowed out from behind his mandibles on the exhale.

"Good selection," he rasped. "Of homes, I mean."

The old Primarch narrowed his eyes and smiled softly. "Thought you didn't like the beach."

"Never said that." Sorono seemed to ease back into his natural state of perpetual relaxation. "Good place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Lose its lustre, you know."

"Really. Where would you live?"

He seemed to consider the question carefully, staring at the lit end of his smoke. He shrugged. "Don't know. Some place rainy, maybe. A little more gray to contrast with the blue."

Garrus seemed to regard his friend with new eyes. He leaned back in his chair.

"Think I've got enough contrast for my blue skies."

Sorono looked up. Amber eyes flecked with gold. He nodded. "S'pose so."

Outside, the clouds broke and sun began filtering in through the windows and the deck doors. It was close to noon.

Garrus took a breath and stroked his chin. He glanced at me out of the corners of his eyes, as if to make sure I was still there.

"So," he said, breathing out the word. "Shopping."

_The Citadel was one of, if not the largest trade hub in the galaxy. Short of slaves, heavy weapons which broke the conventions of warfare, and illegal or dangerous starship modifications, you could find just about anything in the Presidium markets. And if you couldn't, there were always the less reputable wards._

_But apparently they didn't stock what Mordin was looking for._

_"Nonononono, need _altered_ carbon nanotube production module, not _standard_ and certainly not _recycled_, if you are not able to provide will go elsewhere-"_

_"Now let's not be hasty," the volus merchant said in between the click-wheeze of his pressure suit's air filter. "I'm willing to provide what you're asking for-"_

_"Excellent, then accept credits and deliver to docking bay-"_

_"-in about a month."_

_Mordin blinked rapidly. "Month far too much time, will have no need of the device in a month, need altered carbon nanotube production module _now. _Life or death situation. Would prefer life."_

_"Look. Maybe we can make a deal." The volus turned and regarded Shepard and Garrus pointedly. "I'm not in the business of disappointing Spectres. Or their friends."_

_"Do you have the module or don't you?" Shepard asked impatiently, arms crossed over her armor._

_"I..." Click-wheeze. "May."_

_"Then sell it to him."_

_"It's on layaway for another customer-"_

_"They can wait a little longer," the Commander said._

_The volus seemed to freeze. The short bulbous form of his high-pressure suit stared up at her._

_He sighed. Click-wheeze. "Okay."_

_Satisfied, Shepard let the mask drop. "Mordin, go with our new friend here to make sure it's exactly what you need. Wouldn't want to receive the wrong goods by accident, would we?"_

_Mordin smiled. "Of course not, Shepard. Would be most unpleasant, ruin everyone's good mood."_

_The volus sighed again, angrily. "Okay, okay, I got it. Come on, it's in my warehouse."_

_He trundled out of the shop, Mordin on his heels, taking two steps, then pausing, then taking two steps again, seemingly unable to match the slow gait of the shopkeeper._

_Shepard stepped out and rested her hands on her hips. The markets spread out before them, filled with all manner of beings and wares, hawking and bargaining, peddling and haggling. Some only had small prefab stands that probably collapsed during the Citadel's night cycle. Or perhaps they were staffed throughout the day and night, and it was simply the best real estate they could afford in one of the busiest sections of the market._

_"What's next on the list?" Garrus asked idly, taking in the scene with trained investigator's eyes._

_"This is the last thing Mordin needs. After this, it's provisions." Shepard smiled tightly. "Excited?"_

_Garrus thought he saw a pickpocket at work, but couldn't be sure, so he said nothing. "Ecstatic. Gardner won't be able to cook any of it worth a damn, but at least it'll be something different."_

_"He's taking it like a personal challenge, you know."_

_"Doesn't mean I think he'll succeed."_

_The pickpocket ran up behind the human he'd just lifted, and returned the stolen credit chit. You dropped this, oh how did that happen, thanks so much. Smart play. He'd already used a credit encrypter on his omni-tool to lift a small sum from the chit. The human would be none the wiser until he checked the balance later, and if the thief was _very_ smart, it would be a small enough amount that he'd figure he just hadn't remembered spending it. Criminal like that was almost admirable, in a strange way. No big score, no ruined lives. Just lots and lots of little inconveniences._

_"How about you?" He asked. "Looking forward to something that wasn't bought on Omega?"_

_"Who isn't," Shepard replied easily. "Lucky no one got sick off that slop."_

_The thief struck again, this time on an asari. Same exact thing. Garrus thought about telling Shepard, going over there and arresting him, but it had been a long day, and one pickpocket wouldn't exactly tip the scales of good and evil in the galaxy._

_Hell. Not like any of it mattered if the Reapers had their way._

_"I'm not in the habit of opening up to crew, Garrus."_

_It took a moment to process what she said. He blinked and turned his head. She was still staring off into the markets. Her profile cut a strong, sharp silhouette. He couldn't quite a get a read on her._

_"No?"_

_She shook her head. "Complicates things. A commander needs to be a font of strength for their crew. Someone they can look to for guidance and leadership." He saw her jaw clench almost imperceptibly. "Self-doubt isn't exactly inspiring."_

_Garrus' brow plates lowered. "Everyone has doubts, Shepard. You're not special."_

_She smiled, but there was no humor in it._

_"Well," he clarified in a wry tone of voice, "that's not true. You _are_ special. But you're not a robot."_

_She sighed quietly. "I'm not looking for more comfort, Garrus. I'm just letting you know why it's unlikely to happen again."_

_"What?"_

_"Me... opening up like that."_

_Garrus turned to stare out at the markets. He wasn't about to take this lying down._

_"I understand."_

_"It's just what's best for the crew."_

_"Of course."_

_He waited a beat._

_"What about friends?"_

_Now he felt Shepard turn and look at him. "What?"_

_"Opening up to friends. You can still do that, can't you?"_

_"They're not mutually exclusive groups, Garrus."_

_"I don't know." He turned and met her questioning gaze with his. "Depends on how you treat them."_

_Shepard closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. "You're not taking this well."_

_"Just been told by a friend that I'm just 'crew' to her. I think I'm taking it very well."_

_"You're not-" She caught herself and turned back to the markets, bringing a hand up to rub her forehead. "God damn it, Garrus."_

_Garrus did the same, staring out and instinctively trying to locate that pickpocket again._

_"What about Joker and Chakwas?"_

_She laughed, again without humor. "The manchild and the mother hen."_

_"Your _friends._"_

_Shepard's voice was neutral. She was threatening to put the mask back on again. For him. "They've got enough to worry about."_

_That just about tore it._

_"For fuck's sake, Shepard, you are _not alone_." He said, enunciating every word with all that his harmonics could allow. Something of the fierceness of his tone must have struck a chord, because she turned to look at him again. She didn't have the mask on, thank the spirits. Just open eyes and a curious look on her face._

_"You're carrying the weight of a galaxy on your shoulders," Garrus said, plowing ahead now that he'd slipped past her guard. "You're going to buckle occasionally. The very least I can do is share the load."_

_He'd let it slip. This wasn't really about Joker or Chakwas. He'd just been probing for a weakness, something that would get her to see reason. She couldn't do this alone, just like he couldn't do this without her._

_Shepard stared at him, long and hard. He stared right back. There was no backing down from this. Her eyes shifted to something behind him and she straightened and turned back towards the markets. He was about say something when he heard Mordin speak._

_"What I needed, in excellent condition. Took liberty of notifying docking bay crew, should be delivered within the hour, hope you don't mind."_

_Shepard smiled another too-tight smile. "Of course. You going to head back and prep your lab?"_

_He nodded vigorously. "Components I require should be arriving at approximately the same time, should make certain there is adequate space, prep cargo bay for large-scale fabrication as well. Unless you need me here."_

_"No, I think we can manage," she said with a glance in Garrus' general direction._

_Mordin nodded again, turned on his heel, and walked off without another word. Garrus and Shepard stood there, in front of Yuyaku Advanced Machinery and Fabrications, refusing to look at one another._

_Shepard broke the beginnings of a lasting silence._

_"I'm sorry."_

_He turned his head. She was clenching her jaw again._

_"I just..." She closed her eyes and growled out something his translator didn't pick up, if it had been a word at all. "Forget it."_

_When she didn't immediately continue, Garrus had to check. "We okay?"_

_Shepard looked up and there was that thing in her eyes again that bothered him, but it was tempered this time, buried beneath simple honesty. She nodded slowly._

_"Yeah." She turned and started walking. "Come on, Vakarian, let's get some food and go home."_

_Garrus felt like he could breath again, so he did. Took a deep breath, and sauntered after her. Until he saw one of the stores across the street._

_"I'll catch up," he said, flashing her a smile when she turned to glare at him. "Won't be long. Promise."_

_"Better not be." She turned away, raising her voice. "I don't know how to pronounce half the things on your list."_

_Garrus laughed, mostly out of relief. Then he booked it straight for the Citadel Souvenirs across the street, grabbing the pickpocket's hand when he tried to grab his chit and grinning at him like a madman before letting him run back into the crowd._

"At the time, I just thought she was trying to bottle herself up, shoulder the weight of everything on her own and soldier on. And maybe she was, a little. It was Shepard after all. But..."

He shifted back in his seat and stared at the wall above the bar. At the gun at the center of all the pictures.

"I think I know the real reason why she tried to push me away. And it had nothing to do with what was best for the crew."


	37. Exit Stage Right

I thought that Garrus might need another minute, but he seemed determined not to let a silence build. He turned away from the wall and back to the table, flexing his fingers and cracking a knuckle as he did so.

"When we got back, most of the crew had left. Even Joker. Shepard had called in that shore leave and unlike Omega, people actually felt reasonably safe outside the ship. I deposited my purchase in it's appropriate place and headed for the main battery. I didn't have to wait too long."

_Garrus tapped idly at this console, facing away from the door when it swished open._

_"Head's up."_

_He spun just in time to catch a heavy piece of metal against his chest. He held it out and examined it. A long metal cylinder. Universal connector at the end. Smooth bore through the center. Solid polysteel alloy. A top-of-the-line barrel extension for a Mantis-class collapsible sniper rifle._

_He flared his mandibles out. "You shouldn't have."_

_"Like it?" Shepard smiled and walked up alongside him, leaning against the console._

_"Love it." He smiled right back. "How about you?"_

_She smirked. "Where do you think I've been for the last hour?"_

_Garrus tilted his head. "Didn't think it would take you so long, considering the other models you have up there."_

_"You of all people should know that the Normandy SR-1 is a _very_ complex ship."_

_He chuckled. "Of course."_

_She took a deep breath and stared out the open door. The open mess and the small galley were unoccupied. Most of the crew were still out for their one night of shore leave._

_"About what I said earlier."_

_"Already forgotten."_

_Shepard glanced at him, then away. A bit too quickly. Still, there was palpable relief in her voice._

_"Good."_

_Whatever tension had built between them seemed to ebb away. Garrus couldn't help but try and steer things back toward familiar waters._

_"So is this a, uh. What do your people call it? An olive branch?"_

_Shepard grinned. "A weapon mod kind of goes against the spirit of the phrase."_

_He hummed thoughtfully. "Models of warships too, then?"_

_"Guess so."_

_"Well we've just fucked this whole thing up, haven't we."_

_She laughed and Garrus felt every little knot in his body uncoil._

_"We'll muddle through somehow," she said with a smile._

_This time Garrus was content to let the quiet linger. He stared out at the empty crew deck. Felt Shepard stir a little next to him, crossing her arms. Listened to the hum of the drive core, distant but audible._

_"Probably going to be down here a lot over the next few days."_

_She was forcing lightness into her tone. He reciprocated. "Oh?"_

_He turned and found the smile almost gone from her face. She looked tired. Something in the lines around the skin of her eyes._

_"Got a message from Hackett. After tomorrow, we're setting course for Alchera."_

_Alchera? Where did he know that -_

_Oh._

Her face, her name, two dates and a hyphen. Anderson's face and the look in his eye, bleeding heart worn on his sleeve. 'Thought you should hear it from me.'

_Garrus had wrapped both his hands around the barrel and twisted. He brought himself back to the here and now. Where she needed him._

_"Personal favor," she continued. She wasn't looking at him. "Still twenty crewmen classified as MIA. Try and recover their tags, place a survey marker for some kind of memorial."_

_She took another deep breath, chest and shoulders heaving slightly._

_"Shepard," he began haltingly. "You don't have to. Right away. It can wait if you need time."_

_Her eyes found his and he almost flinched. He quickly realized this wasn't the same as their talk about the nature of her self. This was very different. This was death, hers and her crew's and the Normandy's and all that came with it. Her eyes reflected a potent kind of loss that he was unprepared for._

_But he had asked her to open up and she had. That knowledge kept him steady, gave him strength._

_"It did," she said. He blinked. "I got the message weeks ago. Before Horizon."_

_Shepard pushed herself off the console and wandered out of the battery before he could say anything. "Talk to you later, Garrus."_

_"I'll be here," he said before the doors closed behind her._

_Garrus looked down at this hands, at the barrel still cradled in his fingers. He wandered over to the crate that served as his stool and his footlocker and sat. He took off his gloves and twisted the barrel idly in his hands, feeling the texture and the weight of it._

_Solid. Strong. Real._

_He spun around and promptly set to work attaching it to his rifle._

Garrus looked down at his hands. He opened his mouth then closed it. He tried to speak and it seemed to catch in his throat. He brought his laced hands up to his mouth, dull talons gleaming slightly in the sunlight.

After another moment of hesitation, Sorono slowly pushed himself out of his chair.

"Think that's my cue," he said with a sigh, reaching out and collecting the pack of cigarettes from the table (nearly empty) and his jacket from the seat next to him.

Garrus looked up, startled. "You sure?"

Sorono looked down at the dull brownish-red coat in his hands. He shrugged and started to put it on. "Got my good story."

The Primarch blinked and huffed. "Which one?"

He shrugged again, one arm through a sleeve, mandibles flaring out into a wide smile. "Take your pick."

Garrus stood as he pulled on the other sleeve, and so did I. It was tailored for his large ridged collar, and with the color, reminded my of something ancient Earth aviators would wear.

Sorono turned his gaze to me and put a hand up to his temple in a little two fingered salute. "Was a pleasure, ma'am. Lookin' forward to the book. Wouldn't want to spoil it."

I stuck my hand out and smiled genuinely. "I'll see that you get a copy, sir."

He glanced down and chuckled. "No callin' me sir," he said as he shook my hand. "I still _work_ for a living."

His grip was more gentle than firm. He smirked in that turian way I had come to recognize.

"Now if you ever want to write a book about _my_ life..."

I giggled, almost snorted. "We'll see."

Garrus walked around the table, gestured to the door. "I'll see you out."

"Gotta make sure I'm gone, huh," he said, sauntering casually. I followed close behind. It seemed only polite to see him out too.

"Don't want you skulking around outside. The neighbors would call the cops."

Sorono laughed and it sounded as rough and harsh as every other sound he made. It devolved in a brief coughing fit, which sounded even less pleasant.

Garrus raised a hand up behind his friend's back. "You okay?"

He waved him off dismissively, hand moving away from his mouth. "Fine. Nothing to worry about."

The Primarch looked skeptical. Sorono shot him a look and moved towards the front door. He keyed it open and sun poured in from high in the sky. Everything looked a little bit greener after the rain.

Sorono turned and met Garrus' gaze. He actually looked a little awkward for the first time I'd ever seen.

"Thanks for letting me in."

Garrus stared. His mandibles twitched, flaring outward and in, a brief smile.

"You're always welcome."

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and nodded, amber eyes flashing.

"Vakarian."

"Sartorus."

And without another word between them, Sorono Sartorus turned and left. We stood by the door until we lost sight of him in the trees.


	38. Hard to Breathe

"Thought he'd never leave," Garrus said with an awkward huff as he turned from the door.

"You don't mean that," I said. I was even confident enough to believe it.

"No, I do." He keyed the door shut but lingered a moment to stare at the little red 'locked' light. "But I don't mean it nearly as much as I thought I would."

He turned and walked past me. I followed.

"He's a good man," I commented.

"Of course he is," Garrus replied dryly. "I'm only friends with a few bad men."

"A good friend, too."

He paused before he responded to that. I thought I saw his mandibles rise and fall ever so slightly. "A better one than I thought."

I didn't realize we weren't going back to the table until we were in the kitchen and Garrus was opening his fridge.

"I'm a bit peckish. You want something?"

Part of me wondered if he was stalling, but he had been perfectly fine before (and eventually even during) Sorono's little visit. I figured he was asking mostly for my benefit. Or maybe he really _was_ just hungry.

_Don't overthink it, Alisa. Besides, you haven't eaten since breakfast, and god knows when that was._

"Just a little something, if that's okay."

His eyes scanned the various levels of the refrigerator. I was on the wrong side of the door to see what he was looking at. After a moment, he reached in and pulled out a strange, bulbous fruit. Then he closed it and reached up into the cabinet directly above the fridge, rooting around until he pulled out-

"A Twinkie?"

Garrus held it out. I gaped. He shrugged and sneered down at the plastic-wrapped piece of sugary decadence.

"Joker's favorite. Always keep some on hand in case he drops by. Which isn't too often, but thankfully they seem to last forever."

I took it from him and mumbled my thanks. He went over to the sink and started to peel the tough fibrous husk of the fruit (is it even a fruit?) with his talons. It looked more like shucking corn than anything else.

I couldn't help but grimace as I opened the plastic wrapper. "Do I want to know how old this is?"

Garrus shook his head. I took a small bite.

Should have known better. It's a Twinkie. They never go bad.

"I'll never understand human food," he said as he pointedly tore off a small piece of purplish flesh from the seeded fruit and popped it in his mouth.

I stuffed my face to stifle a laugh. Garrus noticed and chuckled quietly, muffled by whatever it was he was eating. He moved next to me and pushed himself up, sitting on the marbled countertop of the kitchen island. His knees were bent and shoulders hunched forward a little. He reminded me of an old weathered gargoyle. Perched and predatory. Statuesque.

"This is hard for me," he said, chewing slowly. "This part."

I could only imagine.

"Take your time," I said, moving to get my pen and paper and return to his side.

He didn't take as long as I thought.

_It was a fair ways back to the Omega Nebula from the Citadel. Once they dropped out of the last relay and hit the FTL drive for the Amada system, Garrus was counting the hours. He wanted to get it over with. He wanted to be done with the past, let the wound scar over and move on._

_But he knew it wasn't just him who had demons at Alchera, nor was he under any delusions that his were the hardest to exorcise. So when they hit orbit, he gave it an hour, then made his way up to the cockpit._

_"Hey."_

_Joker didn't look up, didn't even move. His eyes were dark and sunken. He had always relied a bit too much on stims to run longer shifts, even back on the SR-1. He didn't want to be asleep at the wheel if something happened. But he didn't look like he'd slept in over a day._

_"Not really in a talky mood, Garrus."_

_Garrus leaned back against the bulkhead. "Me neither."_

_"I'm serious."_

_"I know."_

_"Already shouted at Kelly." He sounded sorry._

_"I heard."_

_"And got bitchy with Miranda." He didn't sound sorry about that._

_"You did?"_

_He scoffed. "Tried to get in my head. Rationalize it all away."_

_Garrus shrugged. "Probably how she deals with her own problems."_

_"Yeah. Right. Like the curvy supermodel genius has problems."_

_The icy, cracked surface of Alchera hung in the cockpit window. His mandibles twitched._

_"Think we've all got our problems, Joker."_

_Joker had nothing to say to that. Garrus let the quiet build, not companionable as it had been with Omega out the viewport, but numbing. Cold. Two men lost in their own thoughts._

_There was a brief period, after he got the news and before the funeral, where Garrus had blamed Joker for Shepard's death. If he hadn't been so stubborn, had just gotten to an escape pod instead of staying at the helm of a doomed ship that he was convinced he could save, she wouldn't have had to make the trek to the cockpit. She wouldn't have had to drag him out of his chair. She wouldn't have been thrown clear of the pod she'd helped him to by the explosion. She wouldn't have had to punch the emergency jettison to save his life as the ship exploded around her._

_She wouldn't have died, high in orbit over Alchera, with the Normandy and twenty of her crew._

_But that was garbage. He realized that quickly. It wasn't Joker's fault. It was an unknown hostile ship that had come out of nowhere. The Collectors. The very same ship that they'd chased away from Horizon, turned out. They were the ones responsible for her death, not the fragile, broken man sitting in the cockpit knowing she was alive again and still wishing it had been him instead of her._

_"How long has she been down there?"_

_"Almost an hour."_

_"She take the shuttle down alone?"_

_"Yeah." Joker huffed the ghost of a laugh. "Couldn't fly it. Had to have EDI take it down remotely. Coulda flown it myself, but."_

_"She didn't ask."_

_He shook his head. "No."_

_Of course she didn't. It was Shepard. Trying to spare everyone their pain and bear it all on her own._

_"I hate this fucking place," Joker whispered to no one in particular, running a hand over his eyes. "EDI."_

_The shackled AI's holographic blue orb flickered into life inside the cockpit. "Yes, Mr. Moreau?" She asked in that coldly female voice._

_"Close the shutters. And for once, don't ask why or what for. Just do it." His hand dropped from his face. "Please."_

_EDI didn't respond immediately. Her hologram lingered just long enough that Garrus wondered if she was actually hesitating, if she was even capable of hesitation. Then it flickered out of existence, and the shutters began to close, blotting out the bone white planet and leaving them surrounded by nothing but metal and artificial light._

_Joker sighed. He turned and looked Garrus in the eye for the first time since he'd stepped into the cockpit. He looked better. Not by much, but better. _

_"Thanks for coming up, Garrus. I mean that." He forced a smile. "But I think I'd like to be alone for a while."_

_Garrus nodded slowly and pushed away from the wall. "I'll be in the battery."_

_Joker laughed and it almost sounded honest. He turned and faced the shuttered windows and closed his eyes. "Like there's anywhere else you'd be."_

Garrus was quiet. He kept his mandibles tight against his face and his subtonals under control. He hadn't growled or rumbled or sighed. He hadn't flexed his hands into fists or gotten misty-eyed. He had just talked, slowly picking away at the bulbous fruit in his hands until it was gone, and all that was left was the peeled skin that reminded me of a coconut. He picked and tore at it gently with his fingers.

I had seen a lot of his moods and emotions, always aware that he was keeping much of himself buried and guarded. Now I couldn't help but wonder. Was this him holding everything back? Or had this particular wound scarred over enough that the reason it was hard to speak of was because of how numb it was?

_Phantom pains,_ I thought suddenly.

He looked down at the fruit peel in his hands and back up towards the sink. When he spoke again, he was just as quiet.

_The door swished open. Garrus turned away from the console he had been trying and failing to work at for the last thirty minutes. It was time to talk about her death._

_Shepard was still in her armor, helmet tucked under her arm. She must have come straight from the shuttle. Chucked her helmet into the corner by his work bench and pulled off her gauntlets as she walked over and sat heavily on his footlocker, elbows on her knees. There was a faraway look in her eyes._

_Garrus sat down next to her. She had left him just enough room, intentionally or not. For a long time he didn't say anything, and neither did she. The simple presence of the other was enough. Until it wasn't._

_"Got 'em all," she said through a dry throat. "All crew accounted for."_

_He looked down, as if expecting to see twenty sets of dogtags dangling from one of her hands. Stupid. She would have secured them somewhere first before she came to see him. The mission first, always._

_"Are you okay?" What a stupid question, but it was all he could think to ask._

_"I don't know," she finally answered. "I don't know what I was expecting. Ghosts, maybe."_

_Shepard reached down and found the helmet she'd tossed. Held it between her hands and stared into the visor. It was only then that Garrus saw the scorch marks and shattered glass and realized that it wasn't her helmet at all. At least it wasn't anymore._

_"All I found were bones."_

_"Shepard."_

_She tore herself away from her broken, empty eyes and found his. He held her gaze as long as he could, trying to impart some measure of strength though a single look, because no matter how much he wanted to reach over and touch her he felt very strongly that that was crossing a line._

_"It's done," he said, keeping his harmonics strong. "It's over."_

_She turned back to her helmet, rotated it in her hands. "They ever tell you how I died?"_

_He didn't want to talk about it, think about it, or consider it. But she needed to. And he needed to._

_"Explosion," he said curtly. "Beam cut through the ship, hit the main artery to the drive core. Tore the whole thing in half."_

_"It did. Survived that."_

_He blinked._

_"I got thrown clear. Remember losing consciousness briefly after something hit the back of my head. Woke up just in time to realize I had a leak in my oxygen line."_

_His eyes widened. She was looking at the back of the helmet where the hose had connected._

_"I remember struggling. Reaching behind me and trying to hold it together, trying to think of how to patch it. Of course I knew even if I did I was still dead, but..." Shepard shrugged, lowered the helmet in her hands and stared at the opposite wall. "I've always been stubborn."_

_She set the helmet on the ground and put her foot on it. With a little kick, it slid across the floor, ending up in front of the door to the crew deck. Shepard leaned back against the edge of the workbench and rested her hands in her lap._

_"Lost consciousness just before I hit the atmosphere."_

_Garrus said nothing. What was he supposed to say to that? What was anyone?_

_"It's funny. Down on that planet, it was cold, and dark, and hard to breathe." She huffed softly and forced a taut smile onto her face that didn't even come close to her eyes. "Just like last time."_

_"I know the feeling."_

_She turned and looked at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. Garrus pressed his hands together. His brow plates lowered as he averted his eyes to the wall._

_"After I heard the news," he clarified. "Cold, and dark, and hard to breathe."_

_Garrus had never really told her why he was on Omega. Mostly because he felt he didn't have to. It was obvious, wasn't it? But he felt her stare and realized that maybe she hadn't made that last logical leap, from 'angry vigilante' to 'man with a death wish.'_

_He didn't look at her. He was afraid of what he might see in her eyes._

_"Garrus..." She sighed, and he knew exactly what she was going to say as she was saying it, and it was unacceptable. "I'm s-"_

_"Don't." He ground out. "Don't you _dare._"_

_He felt her turn away and regretted the tone he had taken almost immediately._

_"You don't get to own this, Shepard," he said quietly. "None of it."_

_A crushing silence filled the battery. Garrus could practically hear her breathing._

_"What else is there to say?" He wasn't sure if he was asking him or not._

_"I don't know. Maybe nothing." _Maybe everything._ He took a breath and exhaled hard as he shook his head. His next words took on an unexpectedly wry tone. "This isn't exactly a conversation I've had before."_

_That startled a small laugh out of her. It helped clear the suffocating solemnity from the room. "Me neither."_

_Garrus tapped his fingers together. He finally mustered up the courage to look at her again, and found that same look in her eyes he'd seen before. He still didn't know what it was._

_"You know what it reminded me of?" Shepard blurted. He blinked, and she turned away._

_"That god damn snowglobe."_

_Garrus' mandibles flared as she grinned. Actually, truly grinned. "No."_

_"Yeah." She laughed again, a little desperately. "Kept it in my cabin. Any time I needed cheering up, I picked it up and shook it. Tackiest fucking thing. You know Cerberus actually got the stuff from my storage locker on the Citadel? Wish I'd left it there with Ash's books, I'd still have it."_

_Shepard finished her rambling and gave him a look. "Best gift I've ever gotten. No bullshit."_

_Garrus was tired of letting the quiet get the better of the both of them, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. "I could get you another."_

_"Wouldn't be the same," she said with a shake of her head._

_He didn't miss a beat. "Then I guess I'll just have to get you something even better."_

_"You spoil me."_

_He barked out a laugh. "Me? You're the one who - you know I still have that rifle?"_

_Now it was her turn to gape. "No."_

_"Yeah." He patted the crate beneath them. "Safe and sound."_

_Shepard looked a little stunned for a moment. Then she smirked. "I never thought you and Zaeed would have so much in common. Hatred of mercs, facial scars, an unhealthy love of particular outdated guns-"_

_"Oh come on, it's not like I've _named_ it or anything. I'm not _that_ far gone."_

_"Yet."_

_Garrus sneered and turned away. He felt her eyes still on him, waiting for the inevitable. He let her wait for precisely four seconds._

_"How do you feel about 'Susan?'"_

_She snickered into a laugh, long and hard. He quickly joined her. How they arrived here from where they began was beyond him, but here they were. It was finished. Over and through with._

_Well. Not entirely._

_Shepard stood, collecting her gauntlets as she did so. She walked over to her broken helmet and bent to pick it up before she keyed open the door and leaned on the frame._

_"Think I'll get out of this armor," she said, staring out at the crew deck. "Get some coffee and sit up in the cockpit with Joker until shift change." Shepard looked at him over her shoulder. "You want anything?"_

_Garrus shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "I've got to finish up here. Maybe I'll join you after."_

_"You and your hobbies." She smiled. Her gaze lingered. "Hey Garrus?"_

_He shrugged it off before she could offer it. "Here when you need me, Shepard."_

_She smiled wider. "Yeah. Starting to realize that."_

_"Took you long enough," he said, crossing his arms._

_"Don't push it, big guy," she said, pointing at him with a gleam in her eye as she walked away._

_The doors closed, and Garrus fell back against the console. He took a deep breath and blew out an explosive sigh._

_Shepard had died. But she would be alright. And maybe he would too._


	39. Gratitude

He went quiet, staring off into the middle distance. I let him sit. The only sound was the faint noise of the sea outside, and the whisper-quiet tearing of the fruit skin still in his hands.

Garrus levered himself off the island and walked over to the sink, pulling open one of the doors beneath it and dropping the peeled skin into a small matter recycler attached to the door. Then he went to the fridge and pulled a small bottle out of the back, eyeing the label's turian script before replacing it and pulling out a smaller one.

"Let's do this outside," he said as he walked past, picking up my half-full glass of water off the table. I followed obediently, and thanked him when he made a brief pit-stop to add some ice to my glass at the bar.

The deck was small but well appointed. Three comfortable chairs and a small table over sandy colored flooring, along with a large collapsed umbrella leaning against the house. It was warm, but not unpleasantly so, and the sun had been out for just long enough to bake away the leftover moisture from the rain that morning. The light sea breeze tousled my hair, and I had to push it back behind my ears again.

Garrus settled into his chair with small sigh and cradled the bottle in his hands as he stared out into the sea. It didn't really look alcoholic, but what the hell did I know about turian drinks?

"Sorry if that got a little... overwrought," he said.

"Oh no," I said, a little startled. "If anyone should apologize, it's me. I mean... I know that can't have been easy to talk about."

His mandibles flicked up and down. "It was a lot harder at the time."

I nodded and took a draught of my water. The cold was shocking and hard. It felt good against the back of my throat. He punctured the top of his bottle with a dull talon and pressure hissed out. Whatever it was, it was probably carbonated. Some kind of soda? Or maybe a tonic?

"Never told that story to anyone before," he murmured as he took a sip, the strangely shaped head of the bottle fitting perfectly in his mouth.

I clasped my hands to keep from wringing them nervously, and braced them over my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting. "I'm honored, sir."

He swallowed. "Don't be. I was this close to asking to you to leave."

I couldn't help but grimace a little, but I wasn't surprised. What he'd told me hadn't just been personal to him, it had been deeply personal to Shepard, and to Mr. Moreau as well. It must have felt like a betrayal of trust to even speak it aloud, let alone to someone like me.

But he had done it anyway. And I had to look the gift horse in the mouth.

"Why didn't you?"

Garrus turned and met my eyes. He wasn't upset, as far as I could tell, but he wasn't really happy either. He looked away and took another swig.

"Maybe I just need to finish what I start."

He sounded like he was trying to reason it out for himself as much as explain it to me.

"Thank you."

He looked at me again. Sitting as polite and well-mannered as I could, back straight and one leg crossed over the other, was profoundly uncomfortable and was only making me more nervous. So instead, I pulled my legs up onto the chair and hugged my knees, hunching a little. I was suddenly very glad I decided to wear leggings. Skirts always made me feel awkward.

"I don't think I said that. When you let me in, I mean." I smiled softly, and found I didn't have to force it as much as I thought I did. "Thank you."

His expression didn't change. He raised his bottle to me. I picked up my glass of water and clinked them together. Then Garrus' mandibles lowered, revealing a bit of his teeth in that subtle turian half-smile he only seemed to use when he really meant it.

"You're welcome, Alisa."

We spent a long moment staring at the sea as we cradled our drinks in our hands, sunlight reflecting off the clear blue water. For whatever reason, my thoughts turned to home. I wondered what my dad was doing right now. It had been a while since we talked last. I thought about calling him when all this was said and done.

Garrus' flanging harmonics brought me back to where I was.

"That was the hard part," he said slowly, taking a breath of salty sea air and exhaling through his nose. "It's all downhill from here."

"Until the war?" I said without thinking.

His brow plates seemed to twitch, but otherwise he didn't seem that bothered.

"Until the end of the war," he corrected. "Until the end."

He turned. "You ready?"

I reached down and found my pen and paper, brought them up and pressed them against the front of my thighs. I leaned back into the cushions of the deck chair until I was comfortable, then nodded.

He smiled again. Then he turned back to the sea.

_"Hey."_

_Garrus glanced in her direction. She was marching lethargically towards the galley._

_"Hey," he replied, his voice a bit less harmonic in the morning, before he'd woken up fully. "You're up early."_

_Shepard sidled past him and grabbed a mug from one of the cabinets, then keyed the coffee maker. Garrus was almost finished making his kava. He lifted the lid of the small pot - the dark grains were beginning to settle at the bottom. It was almost ready._

_"So are you," Shepard shot back mildly._

_He shrugged. "I'm always up early."_

_"Right." She smiled and leaned back against the island. "The early bird."_

_His brow plates twitched quizzically. "What?"_

_Shepard breathed out a laugh. "Never mind."_

_"I take offense to that, Shepard."_

_"I said never mind."_

_"How would you like it if someone called you 'primate?'"_

_She closed her eyes. "Garrus."_

_"It's barely even accurate, really."_

_She reached over and shoved him playfully, and he shot her a little grin before he shut up._

_The coffee maker beeped, and it quickly dispensed the black beverage that so much of the Normandy crew was fond of. The smell had actually become somewhat pleasant to Garrus over the course of his time among humans. Shepard took her mug and made her way over to a table in the empty mess. She didn't add anything to it like he'd seen some of the other crewmen do._

_Garrus checked his kava. The steaming water was a murky red, but just clear enough to see the grains at the bottom. He poured it into a cup of his own, then marched right over and sat across from Shepard._

_He saw her take a sip and her nose wrinkled as she swallowed. "The instant stuff is awful."_

_"But you drink it anyway," he remarked before he took a drink of his own._

_"Wakes me up." She took another sip, more pleasant than the first. "That's all it really has to do. How's yours?"_

_Garrus' kava wasn't much better. It was the bottom of the barrel selection of kera grasses, barely even budded yet. It didn't have much potency, and the sharp tang of it bespoke it's early harvest. It drowned out all the more subtle flavors, if they were there to begin with._

_But it was a little piece of home. One he wouldn't have at all if it weren't for her._

_"Very much appreciated," he said, taking another sip. "Thank you."_

_Shepard waved off his thanks the same way she always did. A brief silence followed as they slowly woke up with the help of their respective drinks._

_"You sleep at all?" He asked._

_"Not well." She looked up. "But yeah. You?"_

_He nodded gently. "Same."_

_Another pause. He felt like he had been asking the same question a lot lately._

_"You okay?"_

_Shepard seemed to consider the question as she looked down at her mug. After a moment, she half-smiled, almost a smirk._

_"I'll live."_

_He chuckled quietly at that. So did she. He felt a warmth in his gut that had little to do with the kava._

_"So," he sighed. "What's next?"_

_"Well," she said, taking her elbows off the table and leaning back to stretch her arms above her head, "since I couldn't sleep, I went over the second set of dossiers the Illusive Man sent us."_

_Garrus tilted his head. "Another fine selection of noble, upstanding men and women, I assume?"_

_"Just a professional killer and an ascetic warrior monk. But that's not the best part." Shepard gave him a lopsided smile. "Three guesses who the one at the top of the list was. First two don't count."_

_Well, it had to be someone they both knew. Probably SR-1 crew based on her expression. Not Wrex, he thought. The Illusive Man had already provided them with a krogan. Not Liara, since they already had a biotic (unstable though she was). And Kaidan had removed himself from the equation. Which left..._

_His mandibles flared. Shepard grinned and picked up her mug as she stood._

_"Gonna go wake Joker, tell him to set a course for Haestrom." She lingered above their table and sighed contentedly. "Selfish, but it'll feel good to have her aboard again."_

_"Like I said, Shepard," Garrus said, leaning back in his seat. "Just like old times."_

_Shepard barked a laugh and was about to turn the corner to the elevator when he called out her name. She turned back. His brow plates rose._

_"Can I be the one to tell her about the AI?"_

_Shepard blinked, realization coming slowly. Her eyes widened and she tried and failed to stifle a laugh._

_"I'll think about it."_


	40. Familiarity

"Haestrom was relaxing."

"No combat?"

Garrus gave me a look. "Of course there was combat. That's why it was relaxing."

"Oh." I grinned a little. "Right. Of course."

"I'm not sure if you've noticed by now, Alisa," Garrus drawled, "but Shepard and I were not exactly the most emotionally capable people."

Sometimes I don't know when to keep my mouth shut. This time, thankfully, was not one of them. I smiled and said nothing, and his mandibles flared and rolled into a smirking grin.

"Feelings are... complicated. Combat is simple. Binary. Life or death, black or white. It felt good to be back in that element. After Horizon, and _especially_ after Alchera."

_It was so damn hot. The too big, too bright sun was baking him in his armor even when he was in the shade. Sweat was getting into his eyes, which were already squinting hard as light reflected off the bone white rock and angled metal of one of the last examples of quarian architecture in the galaxy._

_Garrus didn't know why the Flotilla had sent a research team all the way out to one of their old abandoned colonies, but whatever the reason, it must have been important. It was a small team, but beyond the Perseus Veil, they had run a strong risk of attracting the attention of the geth. And now that they had, their entire mission was in jeopardy. Along with Tali._

_He knew some of the quarians were already dead. The geth had been here too long and in too great a number for anything else to be the case. But what comm chatter they could pick out of the radiation interference said that there were still a handful left, fighting to defend the scientists and the data they had collected. They were on the opposite end of the cliffside canyon the shuttle had been forced to drop them in, and there were a significant number of geth mobile platforms between them and what remained of the quarians._

_They were short on time. Lives depended on them._

_Naturally, now was the time to bullshit._

_"Hot enough for you, Garrus?" Shepard's voice crackled through his comm._

_His mandibles fluttered as he scoped out the enemy from behind a rocky outcropping. "Did you really just say that? Ten o'clock high."_

_Shepard's rifle stuttered and the geth sniper fell from his perch, missing the elongated neck and glowing eye that passed for its head. Garrus could have taken it out himself, but so far Shepard had stolen every kill from right under his nose. He still wasn't sure how, to be perfectly frank, but his shot always came just a hair too late, taking the head off a geth that was already offline. Every single time, he'd looked to her for an explanation, and every single time, she'd just given him a thouroughly wicked grin for his trouble. He saw a glimmer in her eye that he hadn't seen in combat in quite some time. Probably since back on the SR-1._

_He decided to let her have her fun and settled on hanging back on the high ground and spotting for her. That let him feel like he was doing something constructive, at least._

_"Well, I know that you turians like it nice and warm and radioactive," she shot back. "Coming up on your right."_

_This particular geth was cloaked, but Garrus had his visor on motion detection. He dropped it with a single shot before it got within ten meters of him. His first kill of the day, and she had let it past. How thoughtful._

_"We've had this talk before, Shepard," he drawled. "Palaven is Virmire, not Therum."_

_"Virmire was pretty hot too, as I recall."_

_"It was the humidity. Your three."_

_Through his scope, he saw Shepard spin, fire, and drop a geth trooper that had been attempting to flank her._

_"So you're saying this isn't bringing you any warm, fuzzy feelings of home?"_

_"Running between the shade so my shields don't fry and I end up baked inside my own armor while synthetic killing machines shoot at me?" He couldn't help but grin, and even if she wasn't a turian he knew she could hear it in his tones. "Yeah, reminds me of trips down to the corner store when I was a kid."_

_"Now, Garrus," she said, and he found her crouched behind a square-cut stone, smirking eyes scanning for more hostiles. "There's no need for _sarcasm."

_A concussive round flew past her and Garrus tracked it to its destination - a geth rocket trooper had been trying to reach higher ground before he was hit. He fell and rolled down the rocky ridge, ragdolling magnificently._

_Grunt walked up and stepped on its head. He turned back. "Too many words," he said, deep grumbling voice piping through the comm. He regarded Shepard cooly as Garrus rose from his perch. "Worse than the tank."_

_"Would you rather be back on the ship?" Shepard asked, rising from her own cover as Garrus signaled to her - _all clear._  
><em>

_Grunt clutched at the shotgun in his hands a little bit tighter. "Are we going to move or aren't we?"_

_She turned back and found Garrus halfway to them - it took longer than it should, since he had to wait for his shields to regen every time he moved through direct sunlight. Not for the first time, he cursed their shitty timing. If they had gotten here earlier, they could have just picked up Tali and left. Hell, if the geth had attacked just a few hours later, it might have been night on this part of the planet and at least then they wouldn't have to deal with the damned sun._

_"Hurry up, big guy," Shepard's voice rang tauntingly in his ear. "Grunt's getting anxious."_

_"Am not," he mumbled petulantly, coming through just as clear. Shepard chuckled. Garrus would have too, but it turned into a dry cough halfway out. It was so damn hot._

Garrus sighed, twisting the half-empty bottle idly in his hands. "Fighting geth was old hat for us. Familiar. Comfortable. Lives depended on us, but lives _always_ depended on us, and it was always better to come at it from a place of confidence than anything else."

He took another swig, and I noticed that the liquid in the bottle had darkened since it had been opened. I wondered why, but it wasn't important enough to interrupt.

"Neither of us was really concerned for Tali's safety. Well," he shrugged, "at least _I_ wasn't. She was tough and resourceful, and she'd held her own against plenty of geth before. She'd find a way to keep herself alive long enough for us to get to her, no question.

"No, it was the other quarians that we were worried about. And make no mistake, when we finally caught up to them, all the bullshit stopped."

_"Op one, this is squad leader Kal'Reegar, come in, over."_

_Shepard's eyes jumped from the dead quarian marine laying against the wall to the broken comm clutched in his hands. A tinny, staticy voice cut through the sound of nearby gunfire. She grabbed it and keyed it on._

_"This is Commander Shepard of the Normandy. Do you copy?"_

_"What?" The voice was filtered through a helmet, a half-broken comm, radiation interference and a translator, and he still managed to convey nine different kinds of confusion."Shepard? That spectre that Tali worked with? Where's Op one? Where's Jarl?"_

_"He's dead." Her jaw clenched. The reflective red of her armor almost matched the color of the pool of blood she was kneeling in. "I'm sorry."_

_A muttered quarian curse, followed by a brief pause. "Don't know why you're here, Commander, but right now any organic is a welcome sight."_

_Shepard keyed the comm, checked the frequency. "Six one seven Theta," she said aloud, and Garrus and Grunt were already keying it into their omni-tools as she stood._

_"Sitrep, Reegar," she said, glancing behind her. Garrus tapped a finger to the side of his head and gave a thumbs up. Grunt just nodded, hefting his shotgun and ready to move._

_"We were on a stealth op, high risk." Kal'Reegar's clipped military professionalism came in a bit clearer through Garrus' comm, but the radiation interference was still there. "We found what we were after. Geth found_ us._ They got us pinned down, can't get to our ship, can't transmit data through the solar radiation."_

_"What's the status of your team? How many are left?"_

_"We were a small squad, dozen marines plus the science team. Down to half-strength now," he said with a small breath. "Made the synthetic bastards pay for it, though."_

_Shepard started moving again, one hand holding her rifle, the other up to her ear. "What's your current position?"_

_They rounded a corner in the canyon and found themselves on a small overlook. Below them were the handful of quarian marines Reegar had mentioned, taking cover near a door to the ruins of their old colony. They were taking fire from geth troopers, but were holding their own admirably. Shepard dropped into a crouch and signaled for her team to do the same._

_"Hunkered down at a base camp across the valley." Reegar sounded a bit breathless, like he was moving. "I left Tali'Zorah at a secure shelter to double back on as a choke point. Getting Tali out safely is our top priority. If you can extract her, we'll keep 'em off you."_

_She frowned, surveying the field, scoping out possible approaches. There weren't many that Garrus could see - it was a good five meter drop to the ground from their ledge, and no cover until they made it to the door or some kind of small warehouse or storage depot off to the left. There weren't that many geth, but there were enough in heavy cover to give them pause. "This research important enough to die for?"_

_"Negative. I give my life for the Migrant Fleet. All the difference in the world." Reegar spoke with a matter-of-fact sort of pride. "I'm a marine, Shepard. I don't know the science. I just point and shoot. They tell me to protect Tali and the data, as long as they get home safe, I've done my job."_

_Garrus smiled without humor and decided that he liked Kal'Reegar._

_"Hold position," Shepard said, lowering her hand from her ear and drawing her rifle to her shoulder. "We'll hit their back ranks, if your men can provide covering fire until we get to the-"_

_"Wait! Watch your ass! Dropship coming in!"_

_A looming, vaguely insectoid geth dropship did indeed fly just overhead. It swung around, facing the door, and fired a brief pulse of heavy plasma fire. The quarians were pinned down by the troopers. They didn't have a chance to get away. Not for the last time, Garrus cursed their shitty timing._

_As the dropship turned away and flew out into the valley, Shepard made her move, leaping down to the ground. Grunt followed, and Garrus stayed up top, keying his visor for EM targeting and shouldering his sniper rifle. Before they could take more than a handful of steps, a concrete pillar next to the door, weakened by the explosion, cracked and fell, it's massive bulk blocking their goal entirely._

_Wonderful._

_Garrus heard Shepard curse heavily in the distance before she brought her hand up to her ear again. "Door's blocked, Reegar."_

_A brief string of equally heavy quarian invective filled the comm channel. "There's demo charges in a warehouse nearby, grab them, blow it, and get in here, Shepard. The geth are moving fast."_

_Shepard was moving left, towards the depot. "Garrus, headcount."_

_"At least four survivors out of my line of sight, and I've got at least half a dozen heading this way from further up," he said, checking his scope. "Two up on the rightmost walkway, one on the left, and three coming up the center."_

_"Grunt, center. No fun in the sun, don't be stupid."_

_"Fun in the shade," he said gleefully, charging forward. "Got it."_

_"Garrus, fire at will. But watch your back, that dropship could have circled around."_

_"Copy." He fired and dropped one of the troopers on the right as it was moving from shade to shade, white synthetic 'blood' bursting from it's head. "You going for the demo charges?"_

_"Breaching the door now," she said._

_Garrus fired again and dropped the shields of a geth in cover, delaying it's advance. Grunt had indeed charged up the middle, using the small bridges and catwalks as shade to advance further than he ought to, but he was still holding them back with battlecrys and shotgun blasts. He chanced a glance down at the depot, and saw the moment where Shepard's omni-tool broke through the security lock and the large bay door slid open to reveal -_

_"Prime!" Shepard shouted, turning and making a run for the closest piece of cover._

_The large, lumbering bipedal geth turned towards the door, single glowing photoreceptor a burning red. It hefted its plasma cannon and fired._

He stopped. I looked up from my paper and found him staring at me, a little bemused.

"Sorry," he said. "Just realized that this is probably really weird for you. Born after the war and all. You met any geth?"

"Yeah, actually." I nodded, pushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. "There was one on Dekuuna when I was doing my post-graduate thesis. He was studying human and elcor literature."

His mandibles flared wide. "No."

"Yeah." I grinned. Dekuuna had been fun times, apart from the crushing workload and even more crushing gravity. "He said his name was 'Serra,' and that he had already spent five years on Kahje learning hanar poetry."

He sputtered a little. I had never seen him look quite so... disturbed. "_Why?"_

I shrugged helplessly. "He said he didn't understand any of it. But he was always really eager to learn."

Garrus stared at me like I had grown a second head. Then he slumped back in his chair and seemed too stunned to laugh.

"How things change," he said, before trilling softly, a strange noise I hadn't heard him make before.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was _tittering._


	41. Complicated Creatures

"Don't really know why I remember Haestrom so vividly," he said, narrowing his eyes. "It was kind of a nothing op. An hour and a half at the outside, and not even that dangerous in the grand scheme of things."

"You said it was relaxing," I ventured. "Maybe that's why."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Guess it _was_ good to be back to basics. Where was I, anyway?"

"The Prime."

"Ah yes."

_Shepard dove over a metal barrier just as her shields went down and ended up laying on her side._

_"Garrus!"_

_He was already keying his omni-tool. The remote overload made its shields flicker and briefly stunned the lumbering geth, but it wasn't enough to divert its attention. He found its head in his scope and fired. The shields took the brunt of the blow, and he quickly swapped the heat sink and fired again. Still nothing._

_"Grunt, where the hell are you?" he barked into his comm, loading a concussive round._

_"Busy!" he shot back. The young krogan's smooth, throaty voice was almost drowned out by gunfire and the warbling and buzzing of geth that must be very close if his comm was picking them up._

_The Prime was almost to Shepard's cover, and she couldn't make a run for it unless it shifted its focus. Garrus fired his high impact shot, and it finally managed to make the thing flinch. Slowly, it turned and looked up at him._

_"Move, Shepard!" Garrus fired once more, glad to see and hear the telltale shattering of shields as he did so, and then promptly dove backwards to dodge the plasma fire sent his way._

_He shifted and crawled forward, gun cradled in his forearms, and when he reached the edge of the precipice, he couldn't believe what he saw._

_Shepard had indeed moved, once he'd drawn the Prime's attention. But apparently finding better cover, drawing its attention back to her, and coordinating with Garrus to slowly whittle away its armor would have taken too long. Instead, she had chosen to slap her rifle onto her hardsuit, run straight at the Prime's back, and climb it like a fucking tree._

_He was so stunned he couldn't even curse properly._

_"What are you _doing_, Shepard?"_

_She didn't answer. She was directly behind it now, hands up near its shoulders, and it had taken notice. It flailed its arms, trying to get a hold of her. If it did, she was as good as dead._

_Garrus threw down his sniper and pulled his battle rifle off his back. He got up on one knee and unloaded, determined to keep the Prime's attention with sheer volume of rounds. It worked, barely. The Prime raised its rifle and took a few half-hearted shots while its other arm tried to snake around and grab her._

_Shepard, meanwhile, was tearing off a panel off its back. He'd seen how strong she was now, with the Cerberus 'upgrades,' but it was one thing to punch a bag and another to rip off a Prime's armor plating. But, with no small amount of effort, she managed it. Then she tore something off her belt, shoved it inside and leapt off, falling into a roll._

_The grenade exploded, and at first Garrus thought it did nothing. The Prime lumbered around and began to raise its weapon at Shepard. Then smoke started to pour out of its torso, in between the plates and weaves of synthetic muscle, and then he saw fire snake up through the seams, and the Prime shook and flexed and warbled and screamed that digital noise that geth used to communicate._

_It toppled to the ground, fire and smoke pouring out of its chassis._

_Garrus slapped his battle rifle onto his back and picked up his Mantis, bracing the stock against the ground. Shepard was still on her back. She wasn't moving._

_"Shepard?" His hand shot to his ear. "Shepard, copy."_

_For a second there was nothing. Then the sound registered in his comm. She was laughing._

_"Spirits _alive_, Shepard." Garrus wiped the sweat off his brow and let mingled amusement and relief (mostly relief) snake into his voice. "Are you _clinically insane?_"_

_"What?" she asked teasingly as she pushed herself to her feet. "I knew what I was doing."_

_"So that's a yes."_

_"Zaeed lent me some grenades," she said, brushing herself off. "Wanted to try 'em out."_

_This was getting better and better. "You hadn't even _used_ them before?"_

_"Memorized the specs before we made planetfall." She looked up at his perch and put on an air of faux-offense that was undercut by the barely-hidden smile. "I'm not _reckless,_ Garrus."_

"_Oh, of _course_ not," he grinned and drawled into his comm. "Not a single shred of evidence to the con-"_

_His visor flashed. EM signature from the rear, close. Garrus spun and saw the infiltrator decloak as it rounded the corner. He tried to shoulder his rifle, but the geth was already firing its shotgun. He took the blast full in the chest. It shattered his shields and he felt the impact through his armor before he fell backwards._

_He heard her shout as he fell, but didn't hear much more after he hit the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, hard. His head lolled about and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the cobwebs. He saw the infiltrator loom over the edge, aiming down at him. His gun was still in his hand. He tried to shoulder it, blinking through the scope._

_The shot that took its head off wasn't his. Garrus sat up roughly, head still spinning slightly from the impact, and saw Shepard down on one knee, lowering her own sniper._

"_You hurt?" she asked, quickly jogging over to his side._

"_Only my pride," he replied. "Good shot."_

_She grinned a little, and he thought he saw the same mixture of humor and relief that he had felt earlier. "I had a good teacher."_

_Shepard helped him to his feet. Garrus felt the back of his fringe. Still intact and undamaged, though it hurt like hell. Probably stubbed it._

"_Haven't taken a fall like that since Ilos," he said._

_Shepard looked up at the ledge appraisingly. "Ilos was worse," she concluded. "Higher fall, lighter armor."_

"_Sure," he nodded.__ "And I didn't have to worry about a big krogan landing on top of me this time."_

_Shepard's febrile half-smile disappeared. Her hand flew to her ear. "Grunt? Copy."_

_Garrus keyed his own comm. Static. Shepard started to move, heading for where Grunt had charged off, Garrus hot on her heels. "Grunt! Copy!"_

_Just then, a big white-armored krogan rounded the corner, jogging toward them. The shotgun in his hands was red hot and smoking along the barrel. He was spattered in every variety of synthetic geth fluid, from the silvery and segmented plates on his head to the thick armored boots on his three-toed feet, but in particular his hands and fingers. His bright blue eyes were wild and he was grinning like a maniac._

"_Comm got busted," he said breathlessly as he halted in front of them. "Got 'em all, though."_

_Shepard blinked. "All of them?"_

"_Yeah!" Grunt cocked his shotgun, ejecting the spent heat sink, and bounced a little on his feet. "C'mon, what're we waiting for?"_

_Shepard gave Garrus a look, a cross between her usual smirk and an embarrassed grimace. She seemed humbled._

"_I'll get the charges," she said, heading for the now-empty warehouse._

Garrus shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. He swirled whatever liquid was still in his bottle and took another swig.

"So after we blew up the stupid pillar, which Grunt found highly entertaining, we headed into the ruin. The quarians had set up something like a base camp there. We salvaged what supplies we could, stocked up on heat sinks and medi-gel, and were preparing to head out before an intact comm array sprang to life."

"_Hello? Is anyone there?"_

_Even through helmets and bad comms, Garrus knew that voice. Shepard walked over and keyed the console._

"_Tali, it's Shepard."_

"_Shepard?" Tali managed to sound even more surprised than Reegar. "Not that I'm complaining, but you show up in the _strangest_ places. What are you doing in the middle of geth space?"_

_She grinned. "Could ask you the same thing. We'll discuss it after the gunfire dies down."_

"_Right." Tali paused for a second. "Okay, Kal'Reegar and the rest of the marines managed to get me into the observatory. From where you are, it's through the building and across the field. I think they locked the door you'll need to take, let me see if I can-"_

_The holographic display on a nearby door flickered from red to green._

"_-ah, there we go."_

"_You okay down there, Tali?" Shepard asked._

"_I've got the data we came for and I'm safe for now, but I've got a lot of geth outside."_

"_Anyone else?"_

"_Reegar had a team of marines covering me when I ran for the observatory." Her voice dropped a bit. "At least some of them are still alive. I can hear them firing at the geth outside."_

_Shepard hefted her M-15 and signaled to Garrus and Grunt. "We're on our way, Tali. Stay safe."_

"_Be careful, Shepard. And-" Tali hesitated. "-please do what you can to keep Reegar alive."_

_They were already out the door when the comm array shut down. Down the long hall, they found themselves in a small room with a series of metal shutters along the front and two doors to their left and right. Shepard keyed a console against the wall and the shutters opened, revealing the observatory and the field they had to cross._

_It was covered in geth troopers of various classifications, but that wasn't what drew their attention. It was the colossus across the way, four spidery legs with numerous cables and wires criss-crossing each other up and down the interior of it's armor. It was situated safely underneath a small roof in front of what must be the observatory, shielded from the sun. It turned its big glowing eye to look right at them._

"_Down!"_

_They dove away from the windows and the heavy pulse from the colossus' particle weapon took out a piece of the wall in a flash of light and sound. They scrambled to their feet._

_Shepard checked her rifle to make sure the particle burst hadn't scorched it. "Garrus, which door?"_

_He sidled up to one of the windows and, very carefully, eyed their possible approaches._

"_Left," he said, quickly moving from the window and following Shepard, already moving for the door._

_Down a series of steps along a high wall in a small box-shaped canyon, and along a tall clean-cut stone wall, they found a quarian marine, his suit and armor and even the decorative cloth tied around his torso and shoulders all colored a crimson red. He was under heavy fire but still chancing the occasional shot with what looked like a pretty serious rocket launcher. Shepard ducked down next to him, behind the metal barricades extending out from the wall._

_When he dropped back down behind his cover, the quarian introduced himself. "Squad leader Kal'Reegar, Migrant Fleet marines."_

"_Our voice on the radio." Gunfire whizzed just over their heads, pulse rifle rounds pinging too damn close for anyone's comfort. "Commander Shepard, Council Spectre."_

"_Still got no idea why you're here, but this ain't the time to be picky." An explosion, grenade or a blast from the colossus, hit nearby. Everyone ducked their heads a little. "Tali's inside, over there."_

_Shepard peeked out over cover. A round embedded itself in the stone wall to her left, kicking out dust. Not even Grunt was too willing to break cover and run into this kind of fire._

"_Geth killed the rest of my squad, and now they're tryin' to get to her. Observatory's reinforced and secure, but it won't hold forever. Best I've been able to do is draw their attention." Reegar sounded more than a little bitter about that. Another explosion shook the ground near them._

"_How many geth we looking at?" Shepard shouted over the din._

"_The geth are near platoon strength but the colossus is the worst part. It's got a repair protocol. Huddles up and fixes itself. I can't get a clear shot when it's down like that, I tried to move in closer, but one of the bastards punched a shot clean through my suit."_

_Shepard looked him up and down. _"_How bad?"_

"_Combat seals clamped down to isolate contamination and I'm swimmin' in antibiotics." Reegar shook his helmeted head. "Geth might get me but I'm not about to die from infection in the middle of fight, that's just _insulting._"_

_Shepard tried to peek up over the barricade before another round zipped past her ear. "What's the layout?"_

_Reegar lowered his launcher to gesture with one hand. "Right side's got a catwalk with a sniper perch. You could wreak some havoc up there, but there's no shade, no real room to maneuver. None of my men made it past the geth."_

_Then he pointed up the center. "Middle's got shade to spare, but the damn colossus has got a clear shot at you the whole time, and you've got geth coming in from both sides."_

_Then left. "The left walkway gives you some cover from the colossus, but leaves your ass hanging out for the troopers. That's how I got shot."_

_Another round pinged too damn close – Garrus could almost smell the ionized air left behind in its wake. Shepard reached over and blindfired, more out of irritation than anything else. "And the colossus?"_

"_Standard protocol for armature-class units is sabotage the shields and whittle it down, you know, kill it with bug bites. But the repair protocol blows that plan to shit. Whatever we do has to scrap that thing _fast._ Probably means getting up close, past that cover."_

"_Sounds like your kind of plan, Shepard," Garrus said, managing to shout and sound sardonic at the same time. Shepard gave him a sneer for his trouble._

_A shot from the colossus against the edge of the wall above them took out a decent chunk. Rubble and debris rained down on them, and for the second time that day, Garrus wished he'd worn his helmet._

"_Any ideas?" Shepard barked to no one in particular._

"_Just one!" Reegar piped up. "I'm not movin' too well, but I got a launcher the sun hasn't fried yet. You move in close, I keep the colossus busy. Maybe even drop its shields."_

"_Don't be stupid, Reegar! You won't last a minute under this kind of fire!" Another too-close ricochet punctuated Shepard's point._

"_Wasn't asking your permission!" He hefted his launcher and moved to stand. "My job is to keep Tali safe-"_

_Shepard moved quickly, shoving Reegar out of the way and behind the thick stone, up against the wall._

"_There aren't enough people left alive for you to take one for the team!" Shepard gave him the full force of her Commander persona. "Stand down!"_

"_I'm not going to sit here while you run into enemy fire!" The little blue light on the 'mouth' of his mask blinked rapidly as he spoke. "They killed my whole squad!"_

"_And if you want to honor your squad, then watch my back! I need you here in case they circle around with reinforcements! We get flanked, we're_ all _fucked!_"

_Rounds whizzed by with regularity. They punched against the stone and ejected bone-white dust. Reegar looked like he might object again, but the debate was already over. Shepard was boring into him with those piercing green eyes. He never had a chance._

"_Alright Shepard," he conceded, "we'll do it your way. Hit 'em hard for me. Keelah se'lai!"_

_She nodded and ducked back behind the barricade, next to Garrus and Grunt._

"_Grunt, center. Keep 'em busy, nothing gets past."_

_Grunt nodded eagerly and leapt over the barricade, charging forward._

"_And _stay in cover!"_ she shouted after him. Then she turned to Garrus. "Right side catwalk. Drop as many as you can, and watch your ass."_

_Garrus had the good sense not to try and make excuses about what happened earlier. He hadn't accounted for the corner, let his guard down, and took a fall for his trouble. It wouldn't happen again. Shepard knew that._

_She glanced up. The fire coming towards them had died down – most of it was heading towards Grunt, who had taken cover behind a square stone pillar and was roaring every time he popped out to fire his shotgun._

_"_You going up the left?" he asked.__

"_It's like you _know_ me," Shepard said with a grin just before she broke from cover._

"Before we move on, I feel like I should clarify."

Garrus turned his head to me and I found myself staring at his fringe. I didn't know turians had feeling up there, but apparently they did. I wondered if stubbing it was like stubbing a toe or a thumb.

When my eyes dropped back down he was giving me a weird look and I wondered if I just did something really inappropriate, but it passed quickly and he didn't press the issue.

"Shepard wasn't reckless when lives were on the line, particularly her friends or crew. She weighed the risks and rewards like any good commander, and she would always make the call that she believed was best. But what was 'best' was completing the mission with everyone alive. No exceptions, save one."

Garrus turned back to the ocean. His two-toed foot twitched a little.

"Shepard didn't give a damn about her _own_ life. She'd take risks and do things that she would never ask anyone else to do, because whatever got the job done fastest with the least risk to everyone else was the right choice. That was who she was - always putting everyone else before herself, and always pushing her own limits, because all they did was get in the way. That's why she jumped on the back of that Prime, that's why she told Reegar to stand down, and that's why she did what she did next."

"That doesn't seem..." I struggled for the right word. "Reasonable?"

He turned back and shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Who said Shepard was reasonable?"

I nodded slowly. I had been forming a picture of Shepard in my mind, and it contradicted itself in a few places. This helped to smooth out some of those rough edges. Why did I expect anything different, anyway? She was a human being before anything else, and human beings are complicated creatures. The best of us were no exception.

It's like that old elcor saying: "Wisely: expecting a human to behave consistently is like expecting the sun to rise in the east."

...maybe that loses something in the translation.

"So... what did Shepard do next?"

Garrus grinned a little at me, then out at the sea. His foot twitched again and he leaned back in his chair.

"I'll give you a hint," he said. "Zaeed had lent her a _lot_ of grenades."


	42. All's Fair

_Garrus had plenty of heat sinks, good cover, two excellent distractions, and a clear line of sight to at least a dozen geth troopers. He should have been in sniper heaven, scoping and dropping targets as fast as he could swap out heat sinks._

_Unfortunately, this was not heaven. This was Haestrom._

_He was standing behind one of two large bone-white square-cut pillars sticking out of the catwalk he was on. Getting here had been child's play, and staying here wasn't much harder either - there was only one bit of decent cover on the walkway, and only room enough for two geth to stand side-by-side in the shade that covered it._

_However, if he wanted to do more than stay here, if he wanted to, say, help his comrades, he had to lean out directly into the light. The sun had lowered in the sky and neared the horizon he needed to face, which meant he only had one good eye - the one covered by his visor, which had a powerful anti-glare and UV blocker function. This hampered his vision and made scoping enemies take about a quarter-second longer than it should. Furthermore, every moment he spent in direct sunlight drained his shields fast, and since he didn't want to risk having them at anything less than half-strength if the geth decided to make a serious push for the catwalk, he had to sit back and let them regen after every shot._

_It wasn't so much a shooting range as it was an exercise in frustration. He'd learned to be patient, every sniper had to be if they wanted to live longer than five minutes, but he couldn't help but growl or grumble when he pulled back into the shade. This was a situation tailor-made to irritate him._

_A couple more geth poked their heads up over the cover on the other end of the catwalk, firing their pulse rifles. His shields took the rounds as he held up his hand and keyed another remote overload on his omni-tool, stunning them long enough to scope and drop the both of them with his Mantis. Even as the rifle kicked back against his shoulder the second time, he was already timing the regen speed on his shields. When they were back to full, he leaned out._

_Grunt was holding the center admirably - only a single infiltrator had made it past him, and Garrus had taken its head off before it had even made it to his catwalk. The geth colossus was focused on him to such an extent that it hadn't even fired a single shot at anything else. His comm was still down, but he hadn't needed much direction._

_Shepard, meanwhile, was advancing slowly but carefully. Pressing forward and moving from cover to cover only when she was certain of a break in the gunfire. Garrus had been helping as much as he could, downing troopers behind crates and pillars and keeping her aware of any attempts to flank her. He knew she must have a plan forming in her mind about what to do about the colossus, but she hadn't said anything yet. No need until she was across the field._

_That didn't stop Garrus from wondering if maybe they should have taken Kal'Reegar up on his offer. A few good rockets would do wonders for them, give Grunt a chance to move up and once they were in close, the three of them could lay down enough fire to at least disable the damned thing if nothing else._

_But this wasn't his op, it wasn't his team, and he wasn't about to question Shepard's judgment. He was too busy watching her six to really think about anything else anyway._

_"Your three, Shepard," he barked into his comms. "Over the rail."_

_He saw her lean over and dust the geth trooper trying to slip past Grunt before he had to duck back behind his pillar._

_"You okay over there, Garrus?" she asked._

_"Bored to tears, actually," he said, raising his rifle to shoot down another geth trying to advance on his catwalk. "Reegar may have overestimated the value of this position."_

_"This fucking sun, I know." Garrus found he could pick out the rapid bursts of her Vindicator through the general din of the fight. "Least I'll have a tan after this."_

_"A what?"_

_"Never mind. Give me some cover."_

_Garrus leaned out without bothering to check his shields. He scoped in, found a trooper, and fired. It promptly fell to the ground. At least they had one significant advantage - geth relied heavily on their shields and generally didn't have much armor, so the sun was far more debilitating to them._

_He saw Shepard moving up before he ducked back behind his pillar. "Plan for the colossus?"_

_"Yeah," she said breathlessly through the comm, "I'm nearly - _fuck,_ it's seen me."_

_He peeked out and saw the colossus rotating in place, spidery legs lifting and falling as it turned. It locked its front legs together to brace itself, then fired. The resulting explosion took out a significant chunk of another stone pillar._

_Garrus didn't wait for an order. He knew what he had to do. He tried to signal Grunt, but the krogan was too busy enjoying himself to notice. He leaned back into his shade, loaded a concussive round, leaned out and fired._

_It bounced off Grunt's sturdy shields, jostling him a bit. He looked up angrily. Garrus pointed at him, then at the colossus, then drew his thumb across his throat. It wasn't the most complicated signal, but it would do. A gleeful smile on the krogan's wide face let him know that the message was received loud and clear._

_Garrus was moving the second he was certain Grunt had understood, sprinting forward. Two geth advanced simultaneously, side by side. He threw up his left hand and keyed an overload, stunning them just long enough for him to leap over the barrier they used as cover. He knocked one to the ground with the butt of his rifle and shoved the other one hard enough to send him over the rail to the ground several meters below. A third trooper ran up the ramp at the far end of the catwalk and fired a burst from his pulse rifle. Garrus' shields dropped, weakened by his time in the sun, and he knew he didn't have the time to scope the shot, so he fired from the hip. Through a combination of naked skill and sheer dumb luck, he pierced the trooper's eye clean through the center, and was already rushing down the ramp before the geth behind him could make it to his feet._

_He threw himself around the corner - the colossus was right in front of him, facing away. _A lot bigger up close,_ he thought as he threw in the last of his concussive rounds and fired at its rear._

_It did the trick. The colossus hadn't yet been fired upon, so it turned its attention to him. It spun quickly, too quickly for something of its size, and began to charge the cannon in its single massive eye. Garrus ducked back behind one of the massive stone pillars holding up the small roof at the entrance of the observatory and, almost casually, shot down the trooper that he had left behind him._

_The explosion almost shook him to his feet as the particle burst hit his cover. Then, suddenly, Grunt was beside him._

_"All dead," he said, sounding a little winded, "just the big one left."_

_Garrus pressed a finger to his ear. "Shepard, you got a plan?"_

_"You won't like it," she said._

_"Probably not. What is it?"_

_"I have three grenades left."_

_He paused, taking in this information as the colossus warbled a digital geth roar, heavy on the bass._

_"You know I was kidding earlier," he said, "about your kind of plan."_

_"Turns out you weren't. We don't have the heavy ordnance to take this thing down any other way."_

_"I could get Reegar."_

_"No." The Commander was speaking now. "Wounded, too risky. And we take his launcher, we leave him defenseless. This is wasting time. Reinforcements could be here any second."_

_Garrus drew his mandibles up tight against his face. "What do you need us to do?"_

_"Try and keep its attention while I work. Move in five."_

_He turned. "Three seconds, Grunt."_

_The krogan set himself and hefted his shotgun, ready to charge. Garrus turned, and on the fifth second, burst from his cover._

_Shepard had already charged forward while they had been waiting. They only saw the tail end of her baseball slide underneath the colossus, firing three round bursts up into it's vulnerable undercarriage. It warbled and cried, picking up and throwing down its pointed legs in an effort to impale her. She rolled out of the way, making sure to keep herself beneath it, and kept up her assault. Grunt started firing immediately, as fast as he could manage with the recoil on his shotgun, and Garrus took the opportunity to finally let loose with his Mantis, swapping out heat sinks with abandon. The colossus' looming head made an easy target, even with its now-constant movement._

_Finally, it bent and looked beneath its two front legs. Shepard was caught in the middle of a reload, swapping out the heat sink on her rifle. She stared it down as it charged its weapon and for a brief, terrifying second Garrus thought that might be it._

_But then it powered down and lifted its massive neck. Firing its particle weapon directly underneath itself was apparently a suicide it wished to avoid. Instead, it locked its front legs together and began to collapse down into its armored shell and engage its repair protocol._

_Shepard sprang to her feet and as she did so pulled three grenades off her belt, primed them simultaneously, dropped them at her feet, then dove out from under it just as it slammed the bulk of its body down._

_A moment passed._

_Then, the explosions rang out, and unlike before, the effect was immediate - fire leapt from every crevice and crack and seam in the armored plating of the hunkered-down armature. The colossus sprang up quickly, roaring once again. Its entire underbelly was ablaze. The heat washed over Garrus suddenly like a wave and the smell of burning wires and rubber and plastic and something undefinable but equally unpleasant made itself known. It wobbled drunkenly back and forth, struggling to stay upright, and angled its glowing eye towards them, charging one final particle burst._

_Garrus raised his rifle and fired. The round pierced the center, cracked the lens, and the weapon promptly backfired, taking the colossus' head off as clean as if it were a trooper in his sights. The ground shook beneath them as its massive body slammed down and all movement ceased._

_Shepard pushed herself to her feet. Garrus walked up alongside her while Grunt went to survey the carnage. He alternated between poking at the colossus with his shotgun and staring at Shepard with something like admiration in his eyes._

_"You stole my kill."_

_Garrus found her laughing eyes and rested his rifle against the top of his shoulder as he casually shifted his weight._

_"Now we're even," he replied._

He laughed, low and rumbling.

"Knew there was a reason I remembered Haestrom," he said, downing the last of his drink.

"Was Mr. Reegar okay?" I asked as I scratched away at the paper with my pen.

"Oh, of course. It took more than a few dozen geth and a suit breach to down a man like Kal'Reegar." Garrus spun the bottle lightly in his hand. "Their ship was undamaged - the geth had been more concerned with killing quarians than stranding them - but Shepard and Tali wouldn't have him flying back to the Admiralty alone, especially after his suit had been breached."

His mandibles twitched and he tossed the bottle lightly into the air, catching it by the neck as it fell. "The shuttle ride back was a bit crowded as a result."

_"Are you sure you're alright?" Tali asked, head tilting._

_Reegar's helmet dipped a bit and even though he heard nothing through the suit's vocal translator, Garrus knew he'd just sighed. What a convenience it must be to just turn off your mouth when you didn't want to be rude._

_"Fine, ma'am. Like I said, combat seals clamped down almost immediately. I'll be alright."_

_"Hope this isn't wounding your pride, Reegar," Shepard said, arms crossed and eyes closed. Her usual posture in the shuttle ride after a mission. "But I didn't get you off that planet alive just to have you die of infection on the way back to the Flotilla."_

_"Not gonna lie to you, Commander," Reegar said in that matter-of-fact way, leaning back against his hard and uncomfortable seat, "I don't think this is necessary. But I'm willing to play it safe every once in a while."_

_"This coming from the man who wanted to go out in a blaze of rocket-launching glory not half an hour ago," Garrus commented mildly._

_Reegar shrugged. "Every once in a _great_ while," he clarified. "Which one of you got the kill shot, anyway?"_

_Shepard's mouth curved into a light frown while Garrus' mandibles flexed into a smug grin that she couldn't see but he knew she'd be able to hear when he spoke._

_"Shepard."_

_Everyone looked at Grunt, Shepard included. His bright blue eyes stared right back at them._

_"What? She did all the damage."_

_Garrus scoffed. "That wasn't the-"_

_"Now now, Garrus." Shepard's eyes glimmered as she smirked. There, in the shuttle, she'd stolen his kill one last time. "You heard him."_

_He huffed and crossed his arms. "Since when is_ he_ an impartial judge?"_

_"Since your commanding officer said so." Shepard leaned back with a small contented sigh and closed her eyes again. "Now shut up and wake me when we get back to the ship."_

_Garrus grumbled something under his breath. Tali laughed lightly, and as always, it sounded a bit strange coming out of her helmet._

_"Good to know things haven't changed all _that_ much," she said._


	43. Downtime

"I hope I'm not giving you the wrong impression."

I looked up from my pad, still braced against the wall of my knees. Tropical birds trilled in the forest around the house and their sound mingled with the ever present noise of the sea and the sound of a soft breeze whispering by my ears. I could see why he chose this spot. It was almost idyllic, and I found myself at ease, leaning back into the seat cushions.

Of course, that could change very quickly. But I enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, it wasn't all high adventure and emotional drama," he said with a roll of his shoulders. "There was a lot of downtime in between. A lot of normalcy, as much as anything was 'normal' on the Normandy. True, Shepard had been going like a bat out of hell since she woke up. Always with a destination and a goal and a mission to do. But she always made her rounds, up and down the ship every day. And there was maintanence in the armory and engineering, calibrations in the main battery, shuttles to repair and inventory to take in the cargo hold. Not to mention off-hours and shift changes and whole lot of restless nights. "

"I figured. I just, uh." I scratched at my forehead with the back of my pen. "Thought you were skipping to the interesting bits."

Garrus chuckled. "You'd be right. But you want the full picture, don't you?"

I nodded. His mandibles twitched from left to right, a more subtle expression of amusement, maybe. It had been a while since he'd done something like that.

"Then that's what you're going to get."

He turned back to the sea, amusement still playing across his face. I didn't miss that tone in his voice. _'You asked for it, kid.'_ Well, it was true. I did.

"It was after Haestrom that things began to calm down. Partially because the team was starting to fill out, and Shepard wanted to give them some time to get to know the people they were going to fight and die with. She knew that stopping the Collectors was going to require teamwork, and that required that the team give a damn about each other."

He leaned back and let the edge of his fringe catch on the back of his chair. He closed his eyes and seemed to bask in the afternoon sun.

"And we were all starting to. Give a damn, I mean."

_Garrus peered across the table and let his eyes rest on each of them, one by one._

_Taylor had nothing. It was written all over his face._

_Donnelly was pretending like he had something, but he didn't._

_Massani was being cagey, but the sort of cagey that said he didn't have much._

_Joker was harder to read than usual, probably because he had made a habit of leaning on his elbow and covering his mouth with his hand. But he had nothing._

_Which left Garrus. And Garrus had something._

_"Call," he said, tossing a chip into the center of the table. Then he laid down his cards._

_"Damn."_

_"Shite."_

_"Guddam."_

_He leaned in to collect his winnings, but Joker grabbed his hand._

_"Not so fast, my pointy-faced friend," he said as he turned over his cards._

_Garrus almost balked. "How did you get a straight?"_

_Joker smiled smugly as he raked in the chips. "Every dog has his day."_

_"What?"_

_"He said every dog-"_

_"I heard what he said, Donnelly."_

_"It means that even the saddest of us get their chance to shine, Vakarian," Taylor said, lips twisting into a wry smile as he ran a hand over his dark-skinned head._

_"There's another saying," Zaeed interjected in that thick accent, "about broken clocks. Seems more appropriate."_

_"Wow, that was almost clever," Joker said with a scoff. "Tell you what, Zaeed, why don't you stick to beauty contests and leave the comedy to the professionals, huh?"_

_As Donnelly gathered up the cards and Zaeed grinned into his drink, Garrus peered around the table once more. He wasn't looking for tells this time._

_Jacob had dark skin, searching eyes, and a wide mouth he kept firmly in check. He was as well-mannered a soldier as Garrus could remember, and if he were anyone else, Garrus might think he was putting on an act and pretending to be the quintessential Alliance marine. But he'd seen enough to know that was exactly what Jacob Taylor was. Period, full stop, end of line._

_Ken Donnelly was boistrous and outgoing, eager to talk and even more eager to joke. While Joker's wit (such as it was) tended toward the dry and sarcastic, Donnelly's was less ascerbic and more jovial. And where Joker would smirk, Donnelly would grin wide and wiggle those strange human eyebrows. He might be Cerberus, but he'd been nothing but friendly to Garrus. Figured him for ex-Alliance too, but he hadn't asked._

_And as for Zaeed... Garrus wasn't sure. His appearance spoke volumes - beaten up, patched together armor, which did a poor job of hiding the tattoos covering his right arm. Blue Suns, once upon a time, by the tattoo on his neck, and an experienced killer by the ugly scars on his face and his discolored eye. His demeanor, however, said other things. He was proud, but you could insult him to his face and he'd just shrug it off. He was a loner who rarely came up to the crew deck for meals, but he followed Shepard's orders to a tee and would spin a yarn to anyone who would listen._

_His gut told him that Zaeed Massani wasn't quite as bad as he made himself out to be. But Garrus had learned on Omega that he was a poor judge of character, so he didn't put much stock in it._

_The old merc had noticed Garrus' staring. "See anything you like, Vakarian?" he drawled._

_Garrus shook his head and reached for his drink, a halfway-decent bit of Epyrus brandy he'd gotten on the Citadel. "The opposite, actually."_

_Zaeed's mouth bent into a crooked smile. He had been in an uncharacteristically good mood tonight, due to both the pile of chips he'd accumulated and the discovery of a well stocked bar in the portside observation lounge._

_"Good," he said. "I've got a reputation to maintain."_

_Joker leaned past Jacob and stage-whispered to Donnelly, "You ever feel like we're outnumbered by the scarred up crazies with guns?"_

_"All the time," he whispered back, to disapproving stares from Garrus and Zaeed. Jacob cleared his throat, but was ignored._

_It was then that Shepard made her appearance, rounding the corner of the mess hall leading to the elevator. She was in her typical Cerberus-branded officer's uniform, but the jacket was undone, revealing a high-necked black undershirt. Garrus was surprised - up until now, Shepard was always so concerned with presenting a very particular image of herself to her crew, even when she was off-shift. Admittedly, back on the SR-1 she'd never worn a thing other than standard issue Alliance navy fatigues, but only because she'd never bothered to sit still long enough to get an officer's uniform tailored. The fatigues themselves were always impeccable._

_He caught only a brief glimpse of her before she disappeared into the medbay. He saw Chakwas rise from her desk through the window, and she exchanged words with her unseen commander, hidden by the steel bulkhead. For some reason, he thought of the Citadel, and if Sorono had learned how to read lips like he was always talking about._

_"Garrus."_

_Garrus' eyes jumped to Taylor. "What?"_

_"You want something?" he asked, standing up._

_He considered his glass. He'd always been a half-empty kind of person. "Sure," he said, handing Jacob his tumbler. "Short blue bottle on the counter."_

_By the time Jacob had returned, Joker had gotten into an argument with Donnelly about whether wild cards added anything to a game or not. Their mouths were curling into sneers beneath their respective beards._

_"Don't be stupid," Donnelly said, "all it does is take away any kind of strategy."_

_"You're talking about card counting," Joker shot back. "That is so not strategy. That's cheating."_

_"All wild cards do is make it hard to tell what's in your hand and support weak players."_

_"You callin' me weak?"_

_"Brittle, maybe," Garrus interjected. "Not weak."_

_"Come off it. He just wants us to play Jokers Wild so he can say 'Jokers Wild' out loud without someone cuffin' him upside his head," Zaeed said with a smirk._

_"And what's wrong with that?" Joker said, throwing up his hands._

_The medbay doors opened, and Shepard emerged, heading straight for the open-air galley. Her jacket was still unbuttoned._

_"Evening, boys," she said without looking, and was quickly followed by chorus of greetings and a grunt from Zaeed. She began to fix herself a drink, lazily picking through the selection of bottles that they had either brought from their respective quarters or plucked from the portside lounge._

_She seemed thoroughly at ease, which wasn't out of character, but was something he hadn't really seen since Horizon. Hell, since he saw her on Omega. Maybe getting Tali back aboard and shooting some geth had put her in a good mood. Or maybe she was just interested in projecting a different sort of image for her crew right now, and it wasn't really genuine. Garrus wasn't sure which. For all her blunt honesty and straightforward nature, Shepard could be a hard woman to read sometimes._

_"How's Reegar?" he asked._

_"Sleeping off the worst of it." Shepard considered a bottle of something cheap that Zaeed brought up, her eyebrow twitching as she did so. "He'll feel like concentrated hell for a couple of days, but Doc says he'll be fine."_

_"Promised Tali you'd check in on him?"_

_Shepard shot him a brief smirk. "Am I that predictable?"_

_"Yes."_

_"How is our fair quarian maiden, ma'am?" Donnelly asked. "Her and Gabby still discussing the finer points of engine efficiency?"_

_"And practically tearing up all the floor grates to get at some 'sub-optimal power conduit,'" she said with a shake of her head. "Really thought it would take her a lot longer to make nice with you two. Who brought the Boone's Farm?"_

_Zaeed raised a hand, not turning to look at her._

_"Ha. Obviously."_

_"It didn't start out so friendly, ma'am," Donnelly replied with a shake of his head. "It began as a rather heated argument about proper power output on a frigate-class starship."_

_"Sounds familiar," Garrus mumbled, grinning to himself._

_Donnelly looked like he was about to ask, but decided against it. "Anyway, once Ms. nar Rayya realized that Gabby knew what she was talking about, she started to ask her more about the ship, and one topic lead into another, and last I saw they were so deep into the specs on the Tantalus drive core that I'm not sure they even noticed me leaving."_

_"They were certainly surprised when I told 'em their shift was over," Shepard said, considering one of the bottles of imported beer that Jacob had apparently been hiding in his quarters. "Asked for some extra time to finish up. I'll head down before I turn in, make sure they get some sleep. And that they haven't torn apart the entire deck."_

_She picked up a short blue bottle. "That's mine," Garrus said, leaning back in his chair. "Dextro."_

_"Might try it anyway." Shepard decided on something Donnelly had brought, some old whiskey, and poured herself a glass. "Apparently these Cerberus augments don't just extend to combat. Scrubs most toxins and alchohol from my system almost faster than I can process it."_

_"Wait wait wait, hold the phone." Donnelly seemed absolutely flabbergasted by this news. "Are you saying you don't get drunk?"_

_"No." Shepard smiled, and a little genuine humor shone through. "Just have to work harder at it, that's all."_

_"That's our Shepard," Joker said lightly, shuffling the cards. "She loves a challenge."_

_"Speakin' of," Zaeed said, throwing his arm over the back of his chair, "how about a hand or two, Shepard?"_

_Joker flexed the cards and they burst from his hand in a spatter of cheap plastic, Donnelly choked a little on his drink, Garrus froze entirely, and Jacob just looked around, confused._

_Nothing shifted on Shepard's face but her eyes, suddenly predatory. "What's the game?" she asked too casually._

_"Skyllian Five," he replied, grinning smugly. "You any good?"_

_The corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly. "I've only played a few."_

_There was a long moment of silence as Zaeed and Shepard stared each other down, both looking almost comically casual. Garrus looked around the table and found everyone else, save Jacob, looking exactly how he felt._

_"What?" Jacob said, a little exasperated. "What's the problem?"_

_Joker breathed out a long-suffering sigh and pulled the scattered cards together again. "Well, my winning streak didn't last long."_

"This is the part where I regret not telling you about the poker game back on the SR-1," Garrus said, lifting his head up and giving me a contrite sort of look.

I was a little sad that I had missed that, but it seemed like too late now. Another time, maybe.

_Another time?_

That was a weird thought to have. Another time, separate from all this, where we would talk about his past? Not likely. I'd been beyond lucky he'd even agreed to go this far, to tell me anything at all, and now I was thinking about asking him for more afterward?

_It's not over yet, Alisa. Get through this first._

I focused on the here and now. And here and now, things were too far along. I was never one to go back over well-trodden ground.

"I'm guessing Shepard was good."

He smiled and leaned back again, all but basking in the sun. "The rigors of command give you a hell of a poker face. Only person who had a better one was Wrex. And Zaeed was no Wrex." His mandibles flared out in a breathy laugh. "What's the phrase? 'Like a lamb to slaughter?'"

_Donnelly had told Garrus in the mess one day about his first attempt to get a game of Skyllian Five going aboardship. Just after Omega, to celebrate Shepard's acquisition of a pristine set of T6-FBA couplings (whatever those were) for the engineering crew. They had invited her, of course, and she had accepted, of course._

_And she had walked away five hundred credits richer. Of course._

_Garrus had laughed then, and he would laugh now if he wasn't still in the game. Zaeed's pile of chips had shrank considerably, and Shepard's had grown from a starting handful to a sizable stack. The rest of them weren't faring well, but they had all expected that. All but Jacob, who had dropped out after going all-in on a flush, of all things. Now he just sat back, cradling his beer and watching Shepard dismantle Massani piece by piece._

_They weren't playing for money this time. This had been a night to relax and get to know each other. Now, for Massani, it was a battle for pride._

_But you wouldn't know it to look at Shepard._

_"So," she said as she laid her cards face down and reached for her glass, "we're debriefing Tali, right?"_

_Jacob stirred, running a hand over his head. "Oh no."_

_"And Jacob is there, because it's either him or Lawson and she was busy talking to her boss-"_

_Jacob sighed._

_"-and Tali has a whole lot of reservations about our situation with Cerberus, of course-"_

_"Of course," Garrus and Joker chimed in unison._

_"-and Jacob is being his usual polite, disarming self. Not that it's working."_

_"Raise," Zaeed said, throwing in another two red chips. Shepard absently tossed in her own, along with a purple chip. Zaeed glowered and returned to studying his cards._

_"But just as she's about to leave-"_

_"I want it on the record that this was unintentional."_

_Shepard chuckled, taking another sip of her whiskey. "Sure it was, Taylor."_

_Jacob grimaced and brushed his fingers across his eyelids. Donnelly leaned forward. "Well? What the hell did he say?"_

_She grinned and dropped her voice into a poor imitation of the armory chief. "'Don't forget to introduce yourself to EDI, the ship's artificial intelligence.'"_

_Garrus' mandibles dropped instantly. Donnelly took a moment to figure out exactly why this was so scandalous, then barked a laugh. Joker raised a hand to his open mouth._

_"Awww snap," he hissed. "You are on her shitlist now, Jacob."_

_"I forgot!" Jacob said defensively, clearly biting back a grin. "I wasn't - look, I haven't exactly been around a lot of quarians, alright?"_

_"Damn it, Taylor," Garrus growled, pouting as much as a turian could. "I wanted to do that."_

_"You'll have plenty of opportunities to mess with her, Vakarian," Shepard said lightly, picking up her cards again. "Let Jacob have this one."_

_"Seriously. Forgot."_

_"Hell of a time to forget, coming out of geth space after a rescue mission," Garrus said idly, fiddling with his chips. Taylor buried his face in his hands and Garrus chuckled._

_"Oh, what I wouldn't give to have seen the look on her face," Joker said, sighing wistfully. "But I guess that would kill her or something."_

_Zaeed threw down his cards. They hit the mess hall table with a quiet plop. "Typical. Guddam luck never lasts."_

_Their attention turned back to the game. Donnelly looked back down at his cards, then at the size of the pot, then promptly folded as well. Joker stared at Shepard, who stared right back with those piercing green eyes. For a long moment it seemed like he might call, but then he dropped his cards and downed the last of his drink. "Yeah, done for the night," he said._

_Garrus didn't even bother to look at his cards, hadn't really paid attention to them at all this particular hand. Whenever his mind had been on the game, he had been staring at Shepard, tracking the line of her jaw, the quirks of her mouth, the light of the mess hall playing across her eyes. Tried to find something, anything there that would tell him if she was bluffing. All he'd managed to find was that a small scar on her neck had disappeared during her two-year long resurrection._

_Shepard had been looking at her cards and taking another swig of whiskey. When she finally looked up and found him staring intently, a muscle in her jaw jumped._

_Good snipers had keen eyes, steady aim, and a whole lot of patience. But great snipers had a certain instinct. That uncanny ability to know the precise moment when they needed to take the shot, regardless of circumstance._

_"All in," he said, pushing his entire stack of chips to the center._

_Everyone's eyes shifted from him to her. Shepard blinked once, twice. She actually seemed a bit off balance for the first time that night. She looked down at the chips, then back up at Garrus. A tense silence filled the hall, broken only by the gentle hum of the refrigeration unit in the galley and the ever-present but barely audible sound of the ship's engines._

_She made a thoughtful noise as she laid her cards down. The whole table groaned or whooped or laughed. Zaeed ran a hand through his thinning hair as Garrus reached in and drew the mighty pile of chips towards him._

_"Hold on now," Donnelly said, his accent becoming thicker the more he drank and the later it got. "You gotta at least let us see yer damn cards."_

_Garrus obliged him, turning over his hand. A pair of twos, nothing more. This set the table off again. Taylor reached over to clap him on the shoulder. Zaeed looked almost insulted. Donnelly busted up laughing. Joker kept saying "what?" over and over again._

_Shepard's eyebrows raised, and Garrus tried not to look too smug as he leaned forward to see her own hand. Donnelly shushed everyone and they waited._

_Her mouth bent into a little half-smile. One that bespoke a certain pride. She flipped over her cards._

_She had nothing. Junk. She'd broken them all, save for Garrus, without even an ace high._

_Zaeed now looked positively flummoxed as he stood up and mumbled something about needing another drink. Joker pulled his hat off his head and buried his face in it. Donnelly shook his head and lolled backward in his chair, and Taylor just leaned back and mouthed "damn."_

_Shepard, meanwhile, rose from her seat._

_"Luck," she said._

_"Skill," Garrus replied, lounging back in his chair and crossing his arms and legs._

_Shepard laughed quietly, looking away. It sounded almost nervous. "Right."_

_She downed the last of her drink, set it back down on the table, and walked away. Headed for engineering, no doubt, then up to her quarters._

_"Want that mess spotless next time I see it, boys," she said over her shoulder._

_Garrus was promptly nominated as the one to clean up. He didn't mind. As Joker and Taylor hauled a tipsy Donnelly to the crew bunks, and Zaeed took his bottle of cheap booze (and one of the finer brands from the lounge) down to his quarters in the starboad cargo hold, Garrus silently collected the chips, gathered up the cards, and replaced all the liquor._

_He realized as he was stuffing a bottle of wine back beneath the bar that he hadn't caught her off-guard at all. Quite the opposite. Her guard was in full force at the time. She'd simply looked up, found him staring, and flinched._

_Garrus decided after a moment's thought that it didn't mean anything, and once he was finished, swaggered off to his quarters, drunk more on petty victory than Epyrus brandy._


	44. Both Ways

"But," he said, drawing out the word, "there was another reason we slowed down after Haestrom."

I looked up from my pad. He had crossed his legs again, rolling his three-toed foot gently and looking out at the sea. The sun was getting closer to the horizon, reflecting brilliantly off the water and starting to tinge the sky just a bit more orange than blue.

"Mordin's equipment - the matter fabricators he'd picked up on the Citadel. He'd finally gotten it all up and running just the way he'd wanted, and he was ready to start fashioning some upgrades for the ship. But," he sighed, "sadly, you can't create something out of nothing. He needed raw materials."

_"Mining duty?"_

_Shepard stood at the door to the main battery, hands linked behind her ramrod-straight back. The look on her face was purely professional, but Garrus could always read her voice, and her tone was pure amusement._

_"Mining duty," she said._

_He crossed his arms and his mandibles hung slack from his jaw, as close to a pout as he could come. "Why me?"_

_Garrus could swear he saw her physically bite back a smile. "Is that insubordination I hear, Vakarian?"_

_"Not at all, Commander," he replied, emphasizing her rank. "Just a simple question. Why not someone else? Yeoman Chambers, for example."_

_The ship's self-declared counselor had been visiting Garrus in the battery lately, in addition to her attempts to engage with him in the mess. She was that sort of irritating too-friendly that only psychologists could be, and he would like nothing more than to have an entire shift to focus on his work without worrying about her barging in and asking something personal._

_"The Yeoman has other important duties to attend to. Yours, on the other hand," she said as she leaned slightly to the right and cast a pointed look at his console, "are far less pressing."_

_"And how is that?" he asked dubiously._

_Shepard straightened. "Because in a few days these guns will be replaced and you'll be calibrating our new Thanix Cannon."_

_Garrus blinked and glanced back at his console. He had been excited when Sorono had sent him those schematics, and Shepard had been almost giddy when he'd shown her the specs. Reverse engineered from Sovereign's main gun, the Thanix was state-of-the-art, as deadly a weapon as you could fit on a frigate. He was more than eager to get his hands on it and learn how to make it dance._

_When he looked back, Shepard's expression was just as impassive, but she was tilting her head in much the same way he did to convey amusement. "You want your big guns, don't you Garrus?"_

_He sighed and scratched at his tattoos. She had him there. "Alright, Shepard. You win."_

_Shepard smiled slowly. Then she turned, hands still behind her back, and paced right out of the battery. "I always do."_

"What exactly did mining duty entail?" I asked without thinking.

Garrus uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. He extended his hands out in front of him, making vague explanatory gestures as he spoke.

"Well, the _Normandy_ would orbit a planet, using a wide-band scanner to locate deposits of minerals, simple base components that the fabricators could fashion into compounds and polymers. The shuttle would go down into the atmosphere and pinpoint the precise locations with a narrow-band scanner, launching probes which would embed themselves into the ground. Then the _Normandy_ would use this sort of mass effect leash to-"

He froze when he turned to look at me. I was leaning my head back against the cushion and my eyes had glazed over. I sat up quickly and shook my head. "Sorry, what?"

Garrus dropped his hands, leaned back, and smirked. "It doesn't matter. What matters is it was boring as all hell and no one on the ship ever wanted to do it. Anyone who stepped out of line got mining duty, and that was enough to keep just about everyone civil. Even Jack, though she still logged more time in that shuttle than any other two crewmen combined.

"It wasn't all bad, though," he said as he settled his head back and closed his eyes. "There were times when a little boredom could be a good thing."

_Garrus leaned back in his seat. The shuttle was on auto-pilot at the moment, slowly lowering its orbit over an airless hunk of rock he couldn't even remember the name of - the second moon of the planet he'd been scanning for the last four hours._

_He kept his hands at the controls, just in case, but there was no real reason to - after he'd set his course, the onboard VI had corrected for subtle changes in inertia and momentum and fired the thrusters accordingly. The only things that weren't automated were the scanner and the probe launcher. Hence, the painful nature of mining duty._

_A few years ago, Garrus would have been impressed at the effortless efficiency of the process. Now, actually performing it, he was bored to tears. That was the double-edged sword of technology, he figured. Making the impossible possible, and the incredible utterly banal._

_He was about to pull up his omni-tool and start browsing the extranet for weapon mods - he couldn't afford any, but a man could dream - when his console pinged loudly. He started and leaned forward, like an absent-minded student who'd just been called on. At first, he thought there might be something wrong, but everything was in the green and all systems showed nominal. Then he realized it was the comm._

_He keyed it on. "Vakarian."_

_"Hey." Shepard's voice. "Having fun?"_

_Her tone said there was nothing to worry about, so he didn't. Instead, he leaned back in the pilot's seat and said mildly, "No. You?"_

_"Reviewing status reports and typing something up for Lawson's boss, so no," she replied, voice crisp and clear through the console speaker. No interference, since the Normandy was only a few thousand kilometers away._

_He hummed conversationally as he shifted the scanner along a range of craters a few clicks to the east. "Something on your mind?"_

_"No. Just thought you might want to talk to someone. Old human saying; 'misery loves company.' "_

_Garrus had either gotten very good at reading her voice, or his old detective instincts weren't as rusty as he thought, because he instantly knew she was lying._

_"Turians have a rough equivalent."_

_"Does it include the words 'duty', 'honor' or 'sacrifice'?"_

_"No."_

_"Then I don't believe you."_

_His mandibles flicked outward. "Har har."_

_They were silent for a handful of seconds. Just long enough for Garrus to realize she wasn't going to say a damned thing unless he prodded her._

_"Come on, Shepard," he said gently. "It's me."_

_Another few seconds as she processed what he'd said._

_"I got a message from my mom," she blurted out quickly._

_He blinked and squinted down at the comm panel. "Your mother? How did she... ah."_

_Anderson. Had to be. He was the only one other than the Illusive Man and Admiral Hackett who had Shepard's terminal address, and if Shepard's mother were even half as stubborn as she was, the bleeding heart councilor would have folded like a house of a cards._

_"Is she alright?" he asked._

_Shepard scoffed on the other end of the line. "Apart from learning that the daughter she buried has been alive for a couple months and hasn't bothered to contact her at all, yeah, she's fine."_

_Garrus winced. He knew how she felt - he'd barely spoken to any of his family in the last two years, until Sol managed to get a hold of him. "That bad, huh?"_

_"No," Shepard said with a sigh. "Not bad. Short. And understanding."_

_"And between the lines-"_

_"Yeah."_

_He took a breath and fired a probe into one of the larger craters beneath the shuttle. High palladium signals there. "You going to contact her?"_

_"I don't know." Garrus could practically see her pinching the bridge of her nose, a thoroughly human gesture and one which he had seen a few times before. "Fuck, Garrus, I keep piling my bullshit on you."_

_"Because I asked you to," he said strongly. He had to derail that train of thought before it left the station. "I knew what I was getting into, Shepard."_

_"Sure you did," she said dubiously. Garrus heard her exhale loudly, and knew somehow that she wouldn't press the issue. Instead, she pressed a different one. __"All we talk about is me. What about you? Sometimes I think I barely know you."_

_He shifted a little in his seat and directed the scanner off to the northwest, at a group of hills. He almost shrugged even though she couldn't see it. "You know everything that matters."_

_"Garrus." Irritation, mingled with command._

_"Alright, alright," he said, trying his best not to think about how a single word from her had gotten him to cave. "Let's see... you know I grew up on Palaven. You know my military history, that's public record. And you certainly know about my father."_

_"You've never even told me his name, Garrus."_

_He almost laughed aloud. Strange, how little details seemed to slip by like that. It certainly wasn't a secret. "Tarkus. To everyone in C-Sec, he was 'Tars.' To me, he was always 'Dad' or 'father' or 'sir.' "_

_"Sounds like a real loving caregiver," Shepard said dryly._

_He grinned, but only a little. "He's not as bad as I make him out to be. Just strict, and a little... cold. All the warmth in our family came from Mom."_

_"And what's her name?"_

_He hesitated, then purposefully waited a bit longer before he spoke, hoping Shepard would take the hint. "Elika."_

_Shepard hummed an acknowledgment. "Elika Vakarian. Beautiful name."_

_Garrus' mandibles flattened against his jaw. "Yeah."_

_And that was all. Garrus was grateful. He wasn't in the mood to talk about his mother at the moment._

_"You wanna talk about Omega?"_

_And he was_ never_ in the mood to talk about Omega. But it had always been there, in the back of his mind, ever since he'd woken up on the Normandy. He'd had other more immediate concerns at the time, but as they began to drift away, the grinding of the gears in his head grew louder and louder. These days, when he was alone, sometimes it was all he could hear._

_He turned more of his attention to the scanner and away from the conversation. "If you want."_

_"I've gotten the feeling that something happened there," she said, voice neutral. "Beyond the obvious."_

_His jaw clenched involuntarily. Was it that obvious? Or could she read him better than he thought?_

_He launched a probe. Not a significant deposit, but he was suddenly compelled to be doing something with his hands. "Nothing important," he said curtly._

_"Garrus." It was an odd tone she took, something he hadn't heard much of from her. Half command, half appeal. "This goes both ways or not at all."_

_That hadn't really been something he'd considered. Garrus had wanted to help Shepard as much as he could, in whatever way he could. He certainly didn't want to burden her with his own baggage, considerable as it was. She had enough to carry on her own. __But she was right. It wasn't fair not to give anything back to her. That wasn't friendship. That was him being her emotional pack animal. Not what she wanted. And if he was honest with himself, not what he wanted either._

_Garrus sighed and shook his head._

_"I wasn't alone on Omega," he said, speaking slowly and deliberately as his hands fiddled with the modulation of the scanner for no real reason. "I had a team. Good men who were tired of being pushed around and wanted to push back."_

_"How many?"_

_"Twelve, including myself." He paused to launch a probe at a particularly deep eezo deposit. "Former military operatives, security consultants, old mercs who wanted to atone. A few like me, old C-Sec agents tired of playing by the rules. People who didn't have anything else. People who needed something to believe in. I gave them hope."_

_Garrus flicked his fingers across the holographic interface, directing the scanner towards a nearby barren expanse, a grand sea of grey and white dust._

_"Now they're all dead," he said coldly. "Shows what I know."_

_Shepard gave him a moment before she asked the question. He needed it._

_"What happened?"_

_"I..." Garrus struggled to find the words to explain. "I let them get too close. I let my guard down, I was too trusting, I-"_

_His hands flexed, dull talons biting into his gloves. He took a breath and collected his thoughts._

_"We were betrayed by one of our own. A turian named Sidonis. Sold us out to the Blue Suns, the Eclipse, and the Blood Pack. He lured me out of our hideout. Said he needed my help on a job, and never showed. When I got back-"_

_His throat closed up suddenly. Garrus shook his head and continued scanning a nearby mound of iridium and keying the probe launcher harder than was necessary._

_"Most of them were dead, and the ones that weren't didn't last long."_

_A moment of silence._

_"How do you know it was him?" she asked clinically. "They could have killed him first, before he got to you."_

_"I wish that were true," he growled, not caring how that sounded. "But I did a little digging before I got cornered. Sidonis emptied his private accounts and booked transport just before the attack. He sold me out and ran."_

_Garrus took a breath and fired another probe at nothing in particular. His mandibles fluttered as he grit his teeth. When next he spoke, his words with heavy with grief and promise. "Ten good men are dead because of him, and yet he lives. One day I'll find him, and correct that."_

_Shepard said nothing. Garrus turned his attention fully to the scanner, to his work, to duty. It didn't help much. Nothing did._

_"It wasn't your fault, Garrus."_

_He shook his head even though she couldn't see it, staring hard at the controls. "Think we'll have to agree to disagree on that, Shepard."_

_They didn't speak for a long time. Long enough that Garrus thought she might have hung up and returned to her work. He tried to lose himself in the banality of scanning, focus on it at the expense of everything else._

_As a result, he was startled when she said, "Tell me about your te__am."_

_His mandibles twitched up and down and he blinked hard. He had to fight more than he thought to keep his subharmonics solid as he spoke._

_"My second-in-command was a human named Butler," Garrus said simply. "Field medic. Patched up most of us more than once. Weirdly affable for a doctor on Omega. He reminded me of Chakwas when she's been drinking."_

_Shepard laughed, and even through the comm it was a heartening sound. Garrus smiled despite himself._

_"Our demolition man was Mierin, a salarian," he continued. "Pretty sure he'd spent time in the Special Tasks Group. Took an inordinate amount of pride in rigging up explosive booby traps for our targets. And our tech expert was a batarian, if you can believe it. Erash. Not the friendliest guy, but he could hack any system ever built. Good card player, too. Could have given you a run for your money."_

_"I don't know about that," she remarked._

_"Well, Shepard, if he could beat me, and I can beat you..." He trailed off and let the thought hang unfinished in the air._

_"Sorry, comms are a little bad on this end. Did I just hear you ask for more mining duty?"_

_Garrus actually chuckled. A weight that had been building in his chest seemed to disappear. "No, Commander."_

_"Because I can make that happen for you."_

_"I'm well aware of that."_

_"Good. Keep it in mind next time we're at the card table."_

_"Next time?" he said with mild incredulity. "You really think there's going to be a next time after that little show you put on?"_

_"You and Kaidan kept coming back on the SR-1."_

_"We were young and foolish."_

_"Right," she said, and he could hear her grin through her words. "Young."_

_After a moment, Shepard sighed loudly._

_"Garrus, I haven't written a word in the last twenty minutes."_

_"Really?" he said, feigning surprise. "I've been scanning this whole time. I thought you were good at multi-tasking, Shepard."_

_She huffed, and again Garrus could practically see her in front of him. "Well, writing up a report for the goddamned Illusive Man is not as easy as scanning for... what are you finding, anyway?"_

_He checked the scanner for the largest nearby mineral deposit. "How do you feel about platinum, Shepard?"_

_"Can I use it to make big guns?"_

_"I don't see why not."_

_"Then I love it. Keep up the good work, Gunnery Chief," Shepard said lightly._

_"Aye aye, Commander."_

_He shifted back in his seat, preparing to settle back into that half-attentive state that had served him so well in his scanning efforts thus far._

_"And Garrus?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Thanks for telling me."_

_Garrus felt his mandibles twitch and was a little surprised to find he was honest when he said, "Thanks for asking."_


	45. The More Things Change

I swallowed. He hadn't opened his eyes in a while, content to lie back in his deck chair and bask in the slowly setting sun. Something about his expression, the set of his jaw or the faint flexing of his mandibles, looked vaguely troubled, but I might have just been seeing things.

Now I knew why he hadn't talked about Omega. I couldn't blame him. What little he'd said of that period of his life made it seem like he wasn't proud of any of it. Take regret, add a healthy dose of ugly betrayal and loss, and it's a wonder I was still here.

While he sat quietly, I scratched idly at the paper with my pen. Doodled a little profile of him in the margin, the long, sharp point of his fringe like an aerodynamic fin stretching behind his head. The first thing people thought about when they saw a turian was usually 'dinosaur,' but staring at him for so long got me noticing all the things about his people that had clearly come from the air. I wondered how heavy he was, if his bones were light and hollow, or if turians had spent so long on the ground that only the most vestigial remnants of their forebears remained.

"Felt good," he said, startling me out of my reverie. "To tell someone. Get it off my chest. You keep something like that bottled up for too long..."

Garrus' eyes flickered open. He blinked a couple times and looked over at me. His mandibles shifted into something like amusement, I thought.

"Little like this, I suppose," he said quietly, humming thoughtfully as he returned to his repose.

"Only a little," I said. It wasn't a question.

He nodded slowly. Then he continued.

_Illium was almost civilized._

_It was a classic garden world, developed to serve as a center for trade between the Terminus Systems and the Asari Republics. And, in order to facilitate that trade, the normally stringent customs laws of Council space on dangerous materials and sapient trafficking were... relaxed. Officially, it wasn't even an asari world: colonized and operated primarily by asari corporations, it was a mecca for private interests in the same way that the human corporate research enclaves on Noveria had been._

_But where Noveria had been cold and secretive, half-buried in the snow, Illium was all pomp, glamour, and shining skies. Its cities were covered in massive, gleaming skyscrapers, temples to the almighty credit. Up here in the polar regions, people actually lived at the bottom level – in the equatorial regions, only the arcology buildings were safe._

_Garrus had little doubt, as he spent a few moments taking in the view, that the only things that separated Illium from Omega were size, money, and a dedicated public works program._

_Shepard led the way through customs. Tali followed on her left, and Garrus to her right. Her reinstated Spectre status got them through without even the most cursory inspection, and their armor and guns didn't get so much as a second glance from anyone._

_It really did start to feel like old times._

_As they walked through the terminal heading for the main concourse, they passed a large vidboard loudly advertising contracts for indentured servitude. The female quarian (because of course it was a quarian) gave an enthusiastic testimonial about how she had been able to wipe all her debts clean with only a few years of work._

"_You bring us to the nicest places, Shepard," Garrus droned._

_Shepard sneered and kept walking. Tali lingered, fingers flying across her omni-tool until the vidboard flickered and went black, then she followed, muttering an impressive string of quarian invective that Garrus only half-understood._

_After a trip through the docking concourse and a mercifully short elevator ride, they ended up in a large plaza atop one of the shorter skyscrapers, dotted with numerous circular stands. Countless holographic screens and haptic interfaces covered the stands, and members of every species crowded around them. At first Garrus thought they were shops, and some of them were, but most were public stock and trading consoles. The words "buy" and "sell" passed through his translator so fast and so many times that he wondered if it might overload._

_He was already surveying the plaza - old C-Sec instinct - when his careful gaze caught an asari navigating through the crowd with a practiced ease, heading towards them. Garrus tapped Shepard's shoulder and muttered, "One o'clock, moving with purpose."_

_He saw her eyes briefly scan the crowd until they froze. "Got her."_

"_Wait, who?" Tali asked, glancing back and forth between them._

"_Excuse me, Commander Shepard?" the asari asked as she drew close._

_Garrus tensed. News of her resurrection hadn't gotten that widespread, had it?_

"_I'm to deliver a message," the asari continued. Thankfully she didn't let that cryptic phrase hang in the air, or go for anything in her pockets. "Ms. T'Soni would like to meet you in her office, above the trading floor."_

_The tension faltered, and in its place rose confusion._

"_Liara's here?" Shepard asked, sounding a little startled._

_The asari pointed behind her. "Take that elevator up two floors. Her office is clearly marked." She turned back, nodded politely, then disappeared back into the crowd._

_As they worked their way through the hustle and bustle of the trading floor, bumping or jostling the occasional trader, Tali spoke up._

"_You know, sometimes you two scare me."_

"_Why's that?" Garrus asked conversationally as he narrowly avoided colliding with a particularly harried looking volus. Tali didn't have to worry about bumping into anyone. Everyone who could kept out of her personal space, and it wasn't out of courtesy. He saw Tali narrow her eyes at passerby through the glass of her helmet._

"_You can say two words apiece and understand each other instantly. It's been two years and you've just fallen into step like nothing even happened."_

"_What it feels like to me," Shepard said, voice clipped as she stepped around an elcor merchant. "I wasn't conscious for the last two years."_

_The bitter, dismissive tone that colored her words made Garrus' insides twist a little._

"_And what's your excuse?" Tali asked._

_He grinned. "I'm just that good."_

"_Even better," Shepard said from up ahead as they finally broke through the crowd. "I've only had to save your ass twice so far."_

_Garrus made a show of drawing himself up and puffing out his chest. Tali laughed and shook her head, purple hood billowing slightly as they stepped into the elevator._

_Not quite old times, but it would do._

"Is that sick?"

I looked up from the pad. Garrus was looking at me strangely, like something had just occurred to him.

"What?" I asked.

"Missing that. The old times." He looked down at the floor and laced his hands together. "Not the war. Never the war. But... serving with them. Being with them. Despite all the danger and uncertainty, those were some of the best times of my life."

His eyes rose and met mine. "Is that sick?"

I blinked. "Uh..."

_Don't insult him, Alisa. Think it through and be diplomatic._

"Well, I don't exactly have the context, but..." I leaned forward a little and hugged my knees. "It seems to me if you found something good in bad times... that's not exactly a sin, is it?"

"Hmm." His mandibles shifted left and right as his eyes dropped back to the floor. "I suppose not."

I shrugged. "You can't really help how you feel, sir."

Garrus huffed a soft laugh. "Right," he said.

He stewed quietly for a handful of moments, shoulders shifting a little against his collar. Then he looked up and peered at me with narrowed eyes and a turian smirk that I was proud to recognize. "Thought we were past that 'sir' business."

I smiled and went for a joke. "Sorry, Mr. Vakarian."

He laughed again, louder. Score.

"Fine, then, Parasini," he said, emphasizing my last name as he put his hands back behind his head. "Be that way."

_The name on the door said 'Liara T'Soni,' but when the secretary opened it and they stepped inside Garrus almost thought they had the wrong office._

_Her back was to them as they entered, focused on the holographic projection of an aged human, dressed well in a stark white suit that matched his complexion. He looked like he might be sick. Understandably so – she was in the middle of reading him one hell of a riot act._

"_Have you faced an asari commando unit before?" she asked, in a low, whispery voice that would have sounded like Liara if it weren't so soaked in menace. "Few humans have."_

_She looked down at the datapad in her hands and tapped idly. "I'll make it simple. Either you pay me, or I flay you alive."_

_Her eyes rose as the human's face lost what was left of its color._

"_With my mind."_

_He swallowed hard and quickly cut the call. The asari turned slowly, and when Garrus caught sight of her eyes, he thought that this fierce, angry woman couldn't possibly be Liara T'Soni._

_Then her eyes landed on Shepard. The coldly savage look in them disappeared instantly. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out, and she fidgeted and didn't seem to know what to do with her hands._

_It was Liara, all right. The last two years had apparently been as unkind to her as they had been to him._

"_Shepard!"_

_Liara stepped quickly around her desk, sleek asari business dress billowing at her feet. She froze when she got within arm's reach, seeming shocked, relieved, and joyous all at once. Shepard, for her part, seemed a little taken aback by what she'd just seen and heard, but when Liara suddenly threw her arms around her, she reciprocated the embrace._

"_Good to see you too, Liara," she said, only sounding a little uncomfortable._

_Liara sniffed loudly, then pulled away, stepping back quickly, but keeping her eyes trained firmly on Shepard. "My sources said you were alive, but I wouldn't let myself believe... not until I saw..." She smiled, eyes wet and practically beaming. "You were missed, Shepard."_

_Shepard's jaw clenched. She reached out and squeezed Liara's shoulder. "I know," she said quietly._

_There was a long, awkward moment. Garrus hated awkward._

"_So," he said slowly. Shepard turned, and Liara seemed to only just notice him and Tali. "You're flaying people alive with your mind, now?"_

_If there was any doubt left in Garrus' mind that Liara was still herself, the faint purplish blush that rose to her cheeks settled it._

_She cleared her throat and moved back behind her desk. "Yes, well... in my line of work, sometimes you have to lay things on a little... strongly, to get what you've earned."_

_Liara gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. They all sat, with the exception of Garrus, who remained standing. Not enough chairs, and he was a gentleman after all._

"_Didn't think archaeology was quite that cutthroat," he drawled as he clasped his hands lightly in front of him and purposely leaned his hip against the back of Tali's chair. She shot him a glare which he pointedly ignored._

"_It's not," Liara clarified. "I've been working as an information broker."_

"_Huh." Tali glanced around. "Well, that explains the office, I guess."_

"_And the messenger. You're doing well?" Shepard asked._

"_It's paid the bills since..." Liara trailed off. Her eyes strayed for a moment. "For the last two years. It's not entirely unlike archaeology – finding lost artifacts, collecting data, constructing a picture of the hidden world around you. The only real difference is the dead bodies still smell."_

_A smile flickered across Shepard's face, Tali chuckled softly, and Garrus almost laughed aloud himself. Back on the SR-1, a joke like that from Dr. T'Soni was as rare as a compliment from Urdnot Wrex._

_The moment passed. Shepard crossed her arms and it was back to business. "You know why I'm here. Who I'm with."_

_Liara nodded. "Gunning for the Collectors with Cerberus. Building your team."_

"_And you remember what I said." She shifted back in her chair, assuming command from the opposite side of the desk. "It's not the SR-1, but there's still a place for you aboard, if you want it."_

_This time Liara didn't trail off, she visibly hesitated. "I... can't. I have commitments here. Things I have to take care of."_

_Shepard's brow furrowed. She leaned forward in her seat slightly. "You in trouble?"_

"_No. Not trouble. But..." Liara sighed. "It's been a long two years for me. There are debts I must repay."_

"_And you can't tell me what they are."_

"_It's not that I don't trust you, Shepard," she said quickly. "But this is Illium. Anything I say is probably being recorded."_

_Shepard frowned slightly for a moment. Then she nodded and uncrossed her arms. "All you need to do is ask, Liara."_

"_I know. But this is something I should do myself." Liara looked down at her terminal, typing something in. "Of course, I can still help you. What do you need to know?"_

"_I'm looking for a couple of people. An assassin and a justicar."_

_Liara smiled again, eyes crinkling. "Still keeping interesting company."_

_Shepard settled back in her chair, resting her elbows on the armrests. "Just adding to my growing collection of dangerous aliens."_

"_Is that what we are to you? Dangerous aliens?" Tali placed a hand over her heart. "I'm hurt, Shepard."_

"_I'm not," Garrus said simply. "I like being dangerous."_

_Tali scoffed. "You would."_

"_Alright, you two." Shepard raised a hand and silenced them both. Then she smirked at Liara. "I'm hoping my next pair get along better."_

_All Liara needed were the simplest of details from the Illusive Man's dossiers and they quickly got the information they needed. Her mysterious 'sources' were apparently well-placed and omni-present – she had the exact location of the justicar in a matter of minutes, and the name of their assassin's contact on Illium not long after that._

_As they stood to leave, Liara rose from her desk to see them out. "If I find anything else that will help, I'll send it to your omni-tool. I've already got your contact information."_

_Shepard turned and stared at her. She opened her mouth, and Liara actually cut her off._

_"I'm a very good information broker, Shepard," she said with a confident smile that was so unlike her it was almost eerie._

_Shepard shut her mouth, blinked, and smiled a little herself. "Take care of yourself, Liara."_

_"I'll try." She almost smirked as she turned back to her desk. "But don't worry. I've gotten to be a pretty good shot in the last two years."_

_They left her office, but it wasn't until they were back in the elevator that Shepard spoke again, running an armored hand through her hair._

_"So was that weird for anyone else?"_


	46. Not That Strange

"I didn't know Dr. T'soni was an information broker."

Garrus opened one eye and peered at me. Then he closed it and shrugged.

"It was a brief period of her life," he said simply. "Something she felt she had to do once. You know how asari are."

When he offered nothing further, I coughed and asked, "And now?"

"Now?" he laughed quietly, settling further into his chair. "Not anymore. Just a mild-mannered professor now."

The way he was glossing over it felt like it was either more than that... or exactly that. I wasn't sure, so I didn't ask. Besides, it wasn't really part of the story.

"So who did you go after first?"

"The assassin," he said. "Shepard figured he was operating on a tighter timetable. She was right, of course. If Liara hadn't pointed us toward his contact, we might never have caught him in time."

_"Serena?"_

_The asari at the desk didn't look up from her terminal. "Who wants to know?" she asked curtly._

_"Name's Shepard."_

_Garrus glanced around the dock and made sure no one was listening who shouldn't be. Though on Illium, as Liara had said, that might be impossible._

_"Liara T'soni said you might have information on Thane Krios," Shepard said._

_There was a slight pause, almost a hesitation. Then the asari smoothly pushed herself up from her desk._

_"Tana," she called to a nearby coworker. "Cover for me."_

_She gestured for them to follow, then led them over to one of the open docks, looking out on the gleaming starscrapers of Nos Astra. The Sunset City, they called it. Garrus mused idly on the notion of a "sunset city" on a planet where the equator was too hot and irradiated to survive. A triumph of marketing, he supposed._

_"Yeah, I know where Krios is," Serena said, turning to face Shepard and pointedly ignoring the others. "I may have passed him some information a few times. What do you wanna know?"_

_"Where is he?" she asked._

_Serena laughed a little. "I can tell you, but you won't stop him. The man never gives up on a job."_

_"I'm not interested in stopping him."_

_The asari arched a brow. "Really?"_

_Shepard smiled and said nothing. Garrus bit back a smile of his own. Apparently she could play things cool, when she wanted to. She just... never wanted to._

_Serena stared for a moment, then closed her eyes and shrugged. "Alright."_

_"Krios," Shepard prompted._

_"He's after my old employer, Nassana Dantius."_

_That got Garrus' attention. Tali's too–he saw her head jerk back from where it had been staring out into the dock. Shepard, meanwhile, barely reacted. Her smile cooled a little, and her right hand flexed briefly, and that was all._

_"I used to run security for her," she continued. "Then I found out she was having people killed to cover up her dirty secrets. I confronted her, she fired me, and then threatened me. In that order._

_"Her loss," Serena said with a shrug. "I might have been good enough to stop Thane from taking her down."_

_"Exactly what kind of security does she have?" Shepard asked._

_"Eclipse mercs. High-tech killers. Undisciplined, but very well-equipped." The asari smiled wryly. "I told Thane all I knew. He didn't seem worried."_

_Serena turned and walked towards the open bay. While her back was turned, Shepard glanced questioningly at Garrus. He nodded and flicked a mandible. The Blue Suns were ruthless, the Blood Pack vicious. Eclipse? They were just well-funded._

_The asari pointed to a particular set of starscrapers in the distance. "Dantius Towers," she said. "One tower's still under construction. If I were Thane, I'd go in through that one and cross over on the skybridge."_

_Shepard stepped up to the edge and peered at their target, shining glass set against the backdrop of the orange sky. Garrus and Tali moved to Shepard's side._

_"Opinions?" she asked quietly._

_"They'll have the rooftop covered," Garrus said, scratching idly at his scars. "Won't get in from the top without anything less than a gunship. Best option is to go in through the lobby, take the express elevator before they know we're there."_

_"Agreed." She turned towards Tali. "You think their security systems that will give you any trouble?"_

_Tali scoffed behind her helmet and crossed her arms. Garrus couldn't help but smile. She'd always been confident, but she'd come a long way since he'd known her._

_"No need for that," Serena said behind them. "I can get you in. Hell, I'll even give you a ride."_

_Shepard arched a brow. "You'd do that?"_

_The asari shrugged again. "At the very least, you'll distract security, draw some attention. Maybe give Thane a clear shot. I didn't hire the man, but I'll be more than happy to see him succeed."_

_Garrus' mandibles pulled into a frown. The sentiment was something he could appreciate, but the words felt mercenary. Like she had something more to gain. It seemed everyone on Illium was always looking to tear someone else down to pull themselves up._

_He imagined Shepard thought the same thing, but at the moment, she didn't much care._

_"Lead the way," she said, and when she followed Serena towards the garage, Garrus and Tali were close at her flanks._

"You mentioned Dantius before," I said. "Back on the SR-1."

He nodded. "One of the only times I've ever seen Shepard really angry. She hated being manipulated. One of the reasons the whole Cerberus situation made her so... uncomfortable."

I scribbled that down on my pad and regarded the words. A little part of me wished my pen was a pencil. I used to chew on them a lot when I was little. It helped me think.

The lull in conversation grew. Eventually, Garrus opened his eyes and sat forward, groaning a little inside his chest as he gently rolled his shoulders.

"Probably sounds strange for a soldier."

I glanced between him and the page, fidgeting nervously. "Well, uh. I mean–"

"It's a trust thing," he said, elbows on his knees. "You trust your commanding officer has good reasons for the orders he gives you. You trust he takes your safety and the safety of the people under your command into account.

"Shepard was..." He laughed quietly. "A bit of a blunt instrument, when it came to negotiation or diplomacy. She didn't skirt around an issue, she got to the point. She meant every word that she said and every thing that she did.

"So when someone lies to her to get her to do something?" Garrus shook his head. "She's not happy. With them, or herself."

I looked down at the words again. It was getting harder to see as the sun set, but I could still recognize my terrible handwriting. It made a lot more sense, after hearing what he said.

Nodding, I pressed my pen to paper and looked up. Garrus' mandibles flicked in a brief smile, and he leaned back in his chair once again.

"Shepard blamed herself for a lot of things," he said simply. "That was how she was wired. You've probably figured that out by now. It haunted her, sometimes. Mostly, it just drove her harder and faster in the direction of whatever her objective was.

"That day, our objective was Nassana Dantius."

_They were standing outside the front door to the Dantius Towers. Reinforced glass doors and massive windows looked into a posh, well-appointed lobby. All marble and metal, sleek asari architecture. Garrus thought it was ugly as sin._

_Selena had provided them with a door code which hadn't worked–apparently Nassana had gotten more paranoid since she'd left her employment–and so Tali had to decrypt the lock._

_That was two minutes ago._

_"I thought these systems weren't going to give you trouble."_

_"Oh, I'm sorry Garrus, would you like to hack the door?" Tali said indignantly. "Because I'll step aside."_

_"Well, I do have a few breaching protocols in my–"_

_"And then you'll trip every alarm they have, and we'll have to fight all the way to the top against Ms. Dantius' private army." She shook her helmeted head. "You wanted subtle, you're getting subtle. Now stop interrupting."_

_"She's right, Garrus," Shepard said, crossing her arms and giving him a stern look. "This was your idea."_

_He clamped his mandibles tight against his face and nodded. Shepard went back to staring at the door._

_Another thirty seconds passed._

_"How much longer?"_

_Tali sighed loudly. "A minute, Shepard. And your staring over my shoulder isn't helping, either."_

_Shepard blinked. Then cleared her throat and backed off a bit. Garrus grinned and was about to say something droll when Shepard's eyes went wide._

_He followed her gaze and saw two salarians rounding a corner into the lobby. One was cut down by fire and fell into a rolling heap somewhere out of sight. The other was halfway to the door when security bots marched around the corner, guns raised, and fired. He took a pair of rounds in the back and collapsed._

_"Are you almost through?" Garrus barked._

_Tali's head shook, her three fingers flying across her omni-tool. "At least another thirty seconds–"_

_"Move!" Shepard yelled, drawing her rifle from her back._

_Tali scrambled to the side and Shepard emptied an entire thermal clip into the door, spraying a vertical line top to bottom. She stepped back, slapped in a new thermal clip, and ran straight for it, leading with her shoulder._

_Garrus didn't know if it was the construction firm cheaping out on materials or Shepard's Cerberus augmentations, but she crashed through the glass like it wasn't even there. She fell into a roll, came up on one knee, sighted and fired._

_One bot fell under a burst from her Avenger. Garrus took the second with a clean headshot. The third froze, shooting sparks out of its joints, and slowly toppled to the ground under Tali's digital assault._

_Shepard got up and ran for the fallen salarian while Garrus and Tali moved up to secure the room. A moment later, she was moving again, towards where the second had tumbled. Garrus didn't have to ask about the first. He could see the look on her face._

_The second had apparently stumbled into a small service area. Lockers and crates and shelves lined the walls, full of power tools and materials the construction workers must still be using. He had crawled over into a corner, leaving a trail of greenish blood behind him, and collapsed against the far wall._

_"Help," he croaked. "Help..."_

_Shepard was kneeling by him in a second, stripping off a packet of medigel from her belt. Tali ran her omni-tool over him, checking vitals. Garrus covered the door, as usual._

_"Hang on, alright?" he heard Shepard say. "You're gonna be okay."_

_"Can't feel my legs," the salarian said feebly. "My chest... killing me."_

_"Losing a lot of blood, Shepard," Tali said._

_"I can see that," she bit out. Then, more quietly, "Who did this?"_

_"Nassana..." he said. "We're just night workers... just workers..."_

_"What happened? Keep talking."_

_"Sent the mechs to round us up... we didn't hear." He coughed, a wet and unpleasant sound. "They just started shooting..."_

_Garrus felt his grip tightening on his rifle. He almost hoped some Eclipse would round the corner. Give him something to shoot._

_"It was horrible... everyone, screaming..." He coughed again, sputtering. "Then... the Eclipse–"_

_"Stop. Don't talk."_

_Garrus turned and found Shepard pulling a small stim off her belt. The salarian was covered in blood on his chest, the two medigel packets already beginning to soak through._

_"This'll keep you awake and alive until help arrives." She paused. "It's going to hurt."_

_She waited for him to nod weakly, then stuck it in his neck. He winced and cried out, seizing her arms and scrabbling his feet against the floor for a moment before settling and taking deep breaths._

_"Thank you," he said after a moment. "Thank you, I... that's better."_

_"Do you know how many mercenaries Nassana has here?" she asked._

_"No... not exactly." He coughed again. "Dozens, at least. They were walking around here all day. All over the upper floors."_

_Shepard nodded. "Alright. That's fine. Stay here. We'll lock the door."_

_She moved to stand and his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. "Wait!" he hissed. "Take my codes to the service elevator. It'll get you to the upper floors. But... if you see any other workers–"_

_"We'll help them."_

_The salarian nodded his long head, black eyes blinking. "Thank you."_

_Tali transferred the codes from his omni-tool while Shepard made her way back to the door, picking up her discarded rifle along the way._

_"Any movement?" she asked._

_"None," Garrus replied._

_She frowned. "Too bad."_

_"There will be," Tali chimed, moving past them with her shotgun ready. "The silent alarms went off after you smashed through that door. They know we're here."_

_"Good," Garrus drawled, shouldering his rifle. "I could use the practice."_

_Shepard took point while Tali locked the door behind them. She checked the heat sink on her rifle, shouldered it, and shot Garrus a half-serious smirk._

_"Start keeping score, Vakarian."_

"Keeping score?"

Garrus shifted a little. "There were times, back in the old days, running into some geth on a nameless world out in the ass-end of the Veil, that turned into a sort of... competition. Of course, lives first, mission first, always. But once I told her my visor could track combat telemetries... she made a point of asking me what the stats were, sometimes. Especially after I started teaching her the finer art of long-range sniping."

He opened his eyes and saw me running a hand through my hair and I realized I must have been giving him a weird look.

Garrus hummed in an amused sort of way and said, "Not the strangest thing you've heard all day, certainly."

I looked down at what I'd written so far, about assassins and rescues and mechs, hacking and impatience and heroics.

And then I looked up at him. Old and scarred and worn, looking at me with one blue eye and his chin on his hand. The most powerful turian alive. One of the men who'd saved the galaxy.

Maybe I was getting used to it. Or maybe I was getting to know him. Or her. But in all honesty?

"No," I said. "It's really not that strange at all."

He grinned and settled back in his chair, tenting his fingers. "Where was I?"

"Keeping score?"

"Right."

_They found evidence of the assassin's passing everywhere they went. Workers barricaded in rooms who told them someone had rushed them inside. Two in particular, who'd been threatened by a merc in one of the corner offices and seen his head explode right in front of them. Never more than a glimpse or a shadow or a single perfect headshot. And no collateral damage._

_Shepard, meanwhile, had been about as subtle as a battering ram from minute one. Which was how things usually went._

_Fighting through the first batch of Eclipse had been easy. They were better equipped than they had been on Omega, but a shield was a shield, and you put enough rounds into it, it went down no matter how much it cost. Their combat drones were easy pickings for Tali and her own noisy companion—who she insisted was named "Chiktikka vas Paus"—and any of the shock troopers they sent forward fell under combined fire._

_But that only got them so far._

_"Garrus?" Shepard's voice crackled in his ear. "Hurry up!"_

_"This weapon can only fire so fast, Shepard," he said quietly, sighting through the scope._

_He pulled the trigger, and another Eclipse helmet disappeared. Then he bent down to reload, while the occasional stray round struck the other side of the crate._

_"Tali?"_

_Tali's breath heaved, static in his comms. "Yes, Shepard?"_

_"Be a dear and have Chiktikka go tell Garrus to hurry up."_

_"Please, no!" he groaned. "Enough of the drone and it's incessant noise."_

_"Then you had better start shooting faster, Garrus."_

_He stood, sighted down the scope. Still at least a dozen mercs at the opposite end. Shepard and Tali were in cover halfway down, behind a massive stack of pylons and rebar. Trapped in cover by sustained fire and a particularly irritating man with a missile launcher who Garrus couldn't draw a bead on._

_The bridge plan had sounded so clever. In practice, having only one very narrow way forward was a pain in the ass to fight through. Especially once your enemy knew you were coming. If this Krios hadn't already made it to the opposite side, Garrus failed to see how he could get past something like this without a gunship._

_And that was when he noticed the canisters._

_"Tali?"_

_"Yes? What?"_

_"If I mark a target, you think you can read my visor's telemetry? Arc a firebomb where I'm pointing?"_

_There was silence on the comms for a moment. Then, Tali said, "Yes, I think I can."_

_"Good," he said, bringing up his omni-tool. "I'm sending you the data–"_

_"I already have it."_

_Another silence. Garrus shook his head and lowered his wrist back to the crate._

_"Next time? Ask."_

_"Don't worry," she said teasingly. "I won't tell what other interesting file directories you've got in there."_

_He rolled his eyes and sighted once more on the canisters. "Just throw the damn thing already."_

_After a moment, Tali's flash-forged omni-tool projectile descended from a high arc into the vision of his scope, right into the canisters. Only one of the mercs took notice, and as he tried desperately to warn his compatriots, the whole thing went up._

_Whatever was in those canisters, it wasn't gas. Going over it later, Tali would suggest that it was an accelerant for plasma torches and industrial-grade fusion lasers, and based on the size and flare of the explosion, he'd have to agree with her._

_Shepard and Tali were behind cover, so they missed the worst of it. Garrus was lucky that both his rifle's scope and his visor were programmed to dim in response to high quantities of ultraviolet light, or he might have gone half-blind before he ducked behind his crate. The whole bridge shook, and debris and bodies flew into the air and off the side, trailing smoke as they fell to the ground far below._

_As the shearing winds this high up the starscraper made quick work of the smoke, the sight of the damaged bridge came into view. There was a great big gaping hole in it, revealing the unfinished interior and the numerous pipes, ducts, and cables of various utilities. Water was pouring out of one, and there was the occasional spark as a dangling wire touched made contact._

_Garrus climbed down from his perch and made his way towards Shepard and Tali, who were staring at the smoking crater._

_"Keelah, Garrus..."_

_"Yeah," he said slowly, surveying the destruction. "I didn't think it would make that big a hole."_

_"Well." Shepard shrugged. "I did tell you to hurry."_

_His mandibles flickered. "I'm ahead, by the way."_

_She gave him a look and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go and find our–"_

_The bridge creaked beneath them. Loudly._

_They froze._

_"Oh, keelah."_

_For the second time that day, Shepard shouted, "Move!"_

_They sprinted hard for the opposite end of the bridge, up the angled ramp of the roof, and onto the plateau leading into the opposite tower. Ceiling tiles began to give way, and Tali dodged between them shouting, "Oh, keelah, oh, keelah!" over and over again._

_They managed to make it safely inside the second tower before the unfinished bridge fell apart, collapsing with the tremendous scraping of metal on metal, and falling to join the bodies and debris that had preceded it._

_"Oh, keelah," Tali gasped, hands on her knees. "Oh, fucking keelah..."_

_"You okay?" Garrus asked, breathing heavily._

_She raised a three fingered hand in a very rude gesture. He laughed breathlessly, and Shepard did too. It was the sort of insane giddiness that regularly accompanies a successful escape from a near-death situation._

_Once they caught their breath, Shepard took point again. "Alright, people," she said, "let's pay Nassana a visit and go home."_

_Apparently they'd taken out most of the Eclipse, because resistance was much lighter in the finished Dantius Tower. A shame, Garrus thought. He would have quite enjoyed making a mess of Nassana's far too expensive office space. Shepard insisted that he'd made a very big mess already, to which Tali heartily agreed, and he supposed he couldn't argue with that._

_In the elevator up to Nassana's penthouse, he rechecked the heat sink on his Vindicator and booted up the overload protocol on his omni-tool for good measure. Tali reset the choke on her shotgun and stowed Chiktikka "for safety's sake."_

_Shepard holstered her weapon and rolled her neck on her shoulders._

_"No one fires unless they fire first," she said. "Let's see if Nassana is smart enough to want to talk."_

_The doors opened on an office three stories tall, with windows stretching from floor to ceiling. An asari paced behind a large black onyx desk, flanked by three veteran Eclipse commandos. The sun was at the horizon outside the window, flaring harshly through the half-tinted automatic blinds while skycars flew back and forth obliviously._

_They stepped forward, and Nassana Dantius took notice. Her commandos drew their weapons and booted up their tech armor while she stepped forward, squinting._

_"Shepard? But... you're dead."_

_"I got better," she said simply._

_Garrus stifled a grin. Shepard always knew how to make an entrance._

_Nassana frowned deeply. "And now you're here to kill me."_

_"Paranoid, aren't you?"_

_"Don't patronize me," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm not stupid."_

_Shepard shrugged. "I wouldn't say you were smart."_

_Garrus shifted right half a step, to get a better bead on the Eclipse with the shotgun. Tali stuck closer to Shepard's flank, ready to lay down covering fire with her Scimitar if necessary._

_"I'm sure you'll find this delightfully ironic," Nassana said, half-turned to the window. "After killing my sister and I... you'll have been directly responsible for the deaths of more of the Dantius family than me."_

_Shepard frowned. Nassana turned and stalked forward, pressing her hands on her desk._

_"You've come this far," she growled. "What are you waiting for?"_

_A short pause. Garrus was running through tactical options in his head when Shepard spoke._

_"You're beneath me."_

_The asari's eyes widened. "What?"_

_"You're petty. Low-rent. Small-time." Shepard shifted her weight onto one hip and tilted her head. "I have better things to do than stage a three-man assault, decimate your security, and gun you down. Quite frankly, I wouldn't want to waste the bullet."_

_"Then what the hell are you doing here?"_

_"I'm looking for someone."_

_"You expect me to believe that?" She started pacing back and forth again. "What is it? Credits? Is that what you want?"_

_"From what I've heard?" Shepard said, eyebrow arched. "All the credits in the galaxy aren't enough to make this problem go away."_

_"Who gave you the right to play God?" she bit out._

_"Are you really about to lecture me about morality?" Shepard asked. "You're right. This is ironic."_

_"What do I have to do to–"_

_There was a thud and a bang from somewhere above. The commandos startled, scanning the walls and ceiling._

_"Did everyone hear that?" one of them asked._

_"I did," Shepard chimed, raising her hand._

_Nassana slapped at the shoulder of one. "Check the other entrances!"_

_As the commando advanced towards a door to a side room, Nassana turned back to Shepard. "You. Stay put. When I'm through with this nonsense, you and I are going to–"_

_What came next happened so fast Garrus had to use the playback mode on his visor to determine the exact sequence of eventsa._

_A drell dropped from the ceiling. Or rather, through a vent on the ceiling. How he'd managed to remove the cover without dropping it or alerting anyone was beyond Garrus, but somehow, he'd done it. He'd landed behind two of the Eclipse, snapping one's neck with a quick wrench of his hands, disabling another with a precision strike to the throat that must have collapsed the trachea, then grabbed the pistol from her hands, shot the third as she turned around, and spun directly into Nassana Dantius' arms._

_There was a pause after this flurry of activity, where Nassana, who'd produced a gun from somewhere beneath her desk, didn't know how to react. Then the drell fired, the shot muffled against her chest, and Nassana gasped, sucking in breath and blood._

_As her legs gave out from under her, the drell supported her neck and back, laid her gently on her desk, and placed her hands over her heart. Nassana groaned and gasped, and then went still._

_The reptilian man with the round black eyes stood over Nassana Dantius' body. Then he wrapped his hands together, bowed his head, and prayed silently._

_Shepard took two careful, measured steps forward. Tali took one. Garrus kept still, his scope trained on the assassin._

_"I was hoping to talk to you," Shepard said slowly._

_"My apologies," he said in a low, quiet voice. "But prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."_

_"You really think she deserves that?"_

_His brows furrowed, and he shook his head._

_"Not for her," he said, looking up at Shepard. "For me."_

_Shepard blinked. Garrus watched as the drell lowered his hands and slowly stepped around the desk._

_"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern from actions alone," he said, drawing his fingers lightly along the black surface. "Take you, for instance. All this destruction. Chaos. Gunfire and explosions."_

_His visor was helpfully informing him that the drell's respiratory rate was slightly higher than average._

_"I prefer to work quietly. If I have to fight through guards, I have made a mistake. I rarely make mistakes."_

_He halted at the front of the desk and centered himself. Garrus noted that this kept the sun behind him._

_"You disrupted my plans. But your distraction eventually proved valuable. I was curious how far you would go to find me._

_"Well," he said, linking his hands behind his back. "Here I am."_

_"Then I'll cut to the chase," Shepard said frankly. "I need you for a mission."_

_There was a pause as he regarded her, and then the drell pointedly turned his back. "Indeed."_

_"You familiar with the Collectors?" she asked._

_"By reputation."_

_"They're abducting entire colonies. Freedom's Progress, Horizon... that was their handiwork."_

_"I see."_

_"I'm putting a team together. We're going to strike back."_

_He half turned, regarding her curiously. "Attacking the Collectors would mean passing through the Omega 4 relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."_

_"My ship will be the first," she said with absolute certainty._

_The drell turned away once more. "You'd like me to protect humans I've never met, from aliens no one knows anything about, by going to a place no one's ever returned from."_

_Shepard took another step forward. "That's the gist of it."_

_He bowed his head again, taking a deep breath. Garrus' visor showed vital signs spiking briefly. His browplates furrowed in confusion._

_"This was to be my last job."_

_Drell weren't too common outside of hanar or asari space, but there were a fair number on the Citadel, and Garrus had even known a few. He had enough experience to realize what Krios was about to say even as he said it._

_"I'm dying."_


End file.
